I'm All Ears

We call it the Wheelbarrow.

A long day with three kids in the house and no adult interaction is enough to reduce any adult to a babbling, incoherent mess. Add the stress of health issues, some bills, upcoming plans, and life in general—and her emotional Wheelbarrow is full.

So when my wife starts talking, I know by now that I had better be listening.

It’s tough sometimes. When my favorite show is on. When I’m in the middle of a really good book. When I’m so tired I just want to collapse into unconscious bliss.

Sometimes there are timeless gaps of silence while she gathers her thoughts. I sit there imagining a computer hourglass icon turning in front of her face while I wait.

Sometimes she repeats herself while she’s getting it all out. “You already said that,” I commented once. Don’t ever say that.

Sometimes my ears are full long before her Wheelbarrow is empty. I sit as quietly as I can, look her in the eye, nod appropriately, ask questions, and give insights. Or maybe I don’t do it as well as I imagine.

But this is love to her. Doesn’t want the gifts. Don’t waste money on the flowers. Can’t eat the chocolate.

Don’t just listen until you understand what she’s saying. Listen until she feels like she’s been heard. Listen till she’s all out of Talk. Listen until her Wheelbarrow’s empty.