My definition of a good partner is one who will take the stinky trash out at the end of the night. He’ll be shimmying into his shoes so good. Doing the dirty work for his family. Even in our apartment complex where he has to walk it all the way to the dumpster.
See that is honor to me. And the willingness to take on that honor?
That, my love, is grace.
But a good one will also help you carry the heavy. And I mean more than just the groceries and the luggage and the moving boxes. I mean the heavy on days when your heart has sunk and you are exhausted from the weight of living. When it feels like you are trapped under a thick, wet blanket and you are trying to breathe through a straw. Once you start looking, it is easy to understand why we all are so drained; this world is riddled with mean and sad. While too many sad say goodbye, there is no good that comes of mean, only sad or more mean.
I believe this is why my heart would only settle for the most kind. It had seen enough sad, and enough mean, to know when it had finally seen the good. The happy, the peaceful, the kind. He is truly the kindest man I know, aside from my father. And that means everything to me.
He also takes out the trash.