Well, do you? Because
in one moment of tragedy, I have learned that I do not appreciate who my
husband is. Do not be confused by my
admission. I’m not saying that I don’t
appreciate the fact that he is the sole income provider for our family, nor am
I saying that I do not appreciate the awesome father he is, nor do I ignore the
amazing examples he sets for our boys. I
simply mean that I do not appreciate the person that my husband is when he is
not with me or in the presence of our family.
The guy that shows up at his office, runs an entire technology
department, mingles with co-workers, spends hours and hours coaching young men
and running a basketball program - that’s the guy I don’t appreciate because I
didn’t know he existed. Let me explain…
My husband, Matt, is the Director of Technology of a local
school district, as well as the head coach for the Boys’ Varsity Basketball
program. If you ask me, I will tell you
that he is very good at what he does (even
if you think my opinion is biased and without merit). I have a general idea of what he does at work,
but truthfully, I do not understand a lot of it. The same goes with his coaching career. I know that he absolutely LOVES coaching, but I’ve never
had a huge interest in basketball. It
doesn’t mean I love him any less, nor does it mean that I don’t pay attention
when he’s telling me about the events of his day – it just means I trust that
he puts in the time and effort to be good at both of these specific jobs. It’s simple, really, like a + b = c.
Photo credit: Tammy Schmeltz
This past weekend, the office that my husband has worked in
for the past six years was destroyed in a fire that started in the bus garage
and spread to the board office building.
At 8:30 Saturday morning, both of our phones were going crazy with text
messages and phone calls from people who saw this event taking place on local
news stations, as well as some calls from co-workers that were already at the
scene. Matt never hesitated in his
decision to get to the school as quickly as possible. As he was putting on some warmer clothes (because
the arctic weather we’ve been experiencing is CRAZY), I asked him if he’d like me to come along and help out any
way I could. He looked me in the eye and said, “Yes, I
want you there”. It didn’t occur to me
then that I would be entering a world that I’m normally not part of. I mean, I know all of his co-workers. But our relationships extend to a casual,
informal conversation every now and again when I happen to see them while out
and about. I hadn’t considered that I
would be seeing the Matt that they see every day; the guy who knows way more
than I could possibly fathom to know; the guy people rely on for so many of
their technological needs. I was just
going to play the role that every wife plays when her husband is under some
sort of distress; I was allowing my presence to be the moral support I thought
he would need.
Photo credit: Cheryl Routson
Photo credit: Tammy Schmeltz
So, I watched as he sat through meetings, took notes, made
phone calls, took more notes, made more phone calls and brainstormed a game
plan. I stood outside in the bitter cold
while the fire crews excavated the building and tried recovering important
materials. I watched as he sent the servers
off to a lab in hopes of recovering any possible data. I watched every inch of him get soaked from
the sprays of water coming from the different angles of the hoses. And with every passing minute, I watched as
worry and a sense of loss defined the features of his face. Somewhere in the midst of all of this, I
realized I wasn’t looking at the person who I chose to spend my life with; I
was looking at the man who just lost part of who he was – the part that didn’t
include me. My revelation doesn’t come
from a place of bitterness, envy, or resentment. It comes from the shameful thought I have
selfishly neglected to recognize all of who he is, not just who I think
he is. I don’t have to know his
work or understand the game of basketball to fully understand now that those
two things are part of what defines HIM,
not a part of what defines US.
I’ve watched Matt work tirelessly since Saturday
morning. He and his co-workers are
rebuilding and moving forward, and I have so much more respect and appreciation
for the work he does. He genuinely cares
about his job and the people he works with.
He balances his work with his coaching because he also genuinely cares
about all of his coaches and players. I
didn’t know I had more room for pride and love in my heart for him, but I
do. I’m so very thankful I’ve discovered
now, when he needs it the most.
