Follow the Steps

I noticed it again this morning as I followed Husband to the front gate.

He often walks ahead of me, not to take a superior position, but to lead and protect me. I follow about two feet behind. Yes, at times, we walk side-by-side, but today’s thoughts have to do with me following behind him.

I find myself matching his rhythm and pattern of steps. He strides with his virile gait, and I imitate his pattern, only my stride is not nearly as long, and my steps are short and quick. My adult children poke fun at me. They call me “Hi-aw-atha.”

As I watched my feet in pattern to Husband’s pace, I thought how symbolically it represents our marriage affected by his ADHD. His disorder sets the pattern for many ways we do things.

When it comes to daily living, I follow him like the coxswain in a row boat.  Do you know what a coxswain does? He or she is rowing the member of a rowing crew who faces forward, steers the boat, and directs the speed and rhythm of the rowers.

I am the one who actually faces forward, thinking in terms of future plans, directing the daily chores of getting things done. “Pick up you right foot; pick up the left” is my mental mantra, which I find myself clandestinely chanting throughout each day.

Our morning routine often goes like this. “It is time for you to get up,” I approach him gently.

“What time is it?” he asks every morning. Every morning.

“What difference does it make?” I habitually reply. “Time for you to get out of bed.”

I return 10 or more minutes later. He may be sitting on the side of the bed; he may not. I share a brief run-down of what he should accomplish for the day. It is never more than three items because his brain would go into a do-loop if more.

“I am going to take you to breakfast,” I say because he really likes eating breakfast out; it is a treat he could not enjoy all the years he had to be at work.

“Where?” he always asks. He hopes I say Village Inn, his favorite.

On a number of mornings I will ask him to work in my office. We attached a chart on the wall next to his desk. Our expectations are a set routine, and after several weeks, he finally can begin without verbal prompts.

Other mornings, I ask him to complete a small number of chores while I am gone. His look tells me much, “I don’t know if I will or not.”  I usually return home to find merely one or two completed.

To be fair, I didn’t always direct him with such detail. He got up independently and went to work. He learned to work with me on financial responsibilities, and he provided excellent leadership as a parent.

He even took the go-ahead on major decisions, a few which actually worked out well. For those occasions, I took short running steps to catch up with him before falling into pace.

Last week, as three-digit temperatures continued to scorch the Plains, our air-conditioner struggled and spat to cool. We weren’t certain what to do with the ten-year-old unit that we bought at discount.  Husband sweated and turned pale each time we discussed what should be done.

He dreaded making a decision about it. He didn’t want to make a decision. I continued to inquire as to what we would do.

One evening a phone call brought us an answer. A heating and cooling business marketing group volunteered to check out the unit.

Husband said, “I have been praying about this.” Again I mentally ran to put my steps in pace with his.

When I got home from work, the A/C guy and husband were discussing a new unit. The compressor was gone on the old one.

“Sit down, so we can talk,” Husband instructed me. “I’ve made a decision. I’ve seen that the compressor really is shot, so I am talking to him about a new unit. This is what I think.”

We talked, and I asked questions. I was relieved that I did not have to carry the responsibility on this. I was proud of the thought Husband put into the decision.

So as he stepped out in front with his long, powerful steps, I ran to catch with him and match my stride with his.