Friday night, my husband and I attended a belated St. Patrick’s Day party. We are not big party goers. My husband is a town manager and it is difficult to go to a party that does not require him to work. Each person attending wants to talk just a little business with him. Each person gets to then walk away to enjoy the party but my husband is holding court with the next customer who wants to talk just a little bit of business. And so it goes…
I socialize and find friends to laugh with and catch up on the latest family news, travel plans, and new books to read. I glance around to find my husband in the dining room in deep conversation with the next tax payer who just wants to talk a little bit of business.
I realize when he can take no more and say I am tired from a long day of first graders energized by an upcoming super sized full moon. We give our thanks to our host and hostess and make our way to our car. While riding home I fill him in about the families, the travel plans, and the books to read. He is very quiet.
Once we arrive home, my husband plunks himself on the couch, lets out a large sigh and smiles at me. He is home and the house is quiet. There is no business to discuss only family, travel, and books. Home is his sanctuary…where he relaxes…it is a quiet party.