Love in a Garbage Can

Today was Garbage Day. The garbage is my job.  On Wednesday morning I march through the house and empty all the wastebaskets and haul them outside. I then drag the three garbage cans all the way out to the curb (nearly 40 feet I'm sure). After the city sanitation engineers dutifully pick them up (anytime between 9:00am and 4:30pm) I march the empty garbage cans back next to the garage door to await another week.

I, of course, make sure to let Jana know that I remembered to take the garbage out when she comes home from work.  She needs to and wants to know this, I'm sure.  I'm also sure this act of vigilance on my part helps her feel cared for.  This is necessary because I have been known to forget from time to time – not very often, mind you. (Although I do have to admit that if my garbage cans aren't out to the curb by about 9:30, my single, older next door neighbor often calls to remind me.)

At any rate, it is my manly duty and I dute it ... most of the time ... except when I forget ... which is rare ... I assure you. And I always let Jana know when she comes home so she'll know I've done my duty as husband and protector. She then, generally, gives me that brief look that says something like "Well, good for you."  (Sometimes she'll even throw me a biscuit.)

Two weeks ago I dutifully did my husbandly duty and quietly gave myself a pat on the back for remembering.  During the day we had some Idaho weather.  Those of you not from around here need to know this means we had "mixed weather", changing every ten minutes.  The sanitation engineers showed up at around 3:00 that afternoon, even late for them.  I absent mindedly noticed the truck but was in the middle of a project and didn't get up to go bring the garbage cans in ... especially since it was seriously "wind-ing" (that's Jana-oan for "the wind was a'blowing").

The plastic garbage cans started blowing around and rolling in the street, but I really needed to get my project done.

Shortly after 4:00 Jana pulled in.  She walked in the door, her normal afterwork cheerful self, and headed for the bathroom, her normal afterwork cheerful ritual.  I continued to work.  Finally, just before dinner, I remembered the garbage cans.  I headed outside but couldn't see them.  At first I thought they might have blown down the street but as I walked out to the driveway I saw them, neatly sitting in their place by the garage door, lids on and everything.

Jana had pulled in, saw the garbage cans and brought them in.  Nothing remarkable really, other than it's not her responsibility.  She just saw the need, assumed I had been busy and did it.  But I guess the real significance was that, unlike some people I resemble, she hadn't said a word: no comment about them being blown around and scattered; not a word about whose job it was; no mention of "I brought the garbage cans in for you."  Just the small act of service, without the fanfare or the trumpets or the "sounding brass and tinkling cymbals".  Just her normal afterwork cheerful, "Helllloooo."

I'm not sure where service ends and love begins.  But it seems, at least with Jana, they are the same thing, a loving thing.
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