Downtown Dallas, 4:30 AM.

One of my very favorite things about our weekend excursions to east Texas is the drive. What could be a boring three hours each way instead provides moments of exhaustion-induced hilarity, spontaneous singing, and deep emotional connection.

This last trip out was one of the best in that regard. I didn’t plan it that way. But my mind wandered as we drove. For weeks there had been a couple of issues weighing on me like bricks. It occurred to me that if I would only find the courage to unburden myself, Steve might be able to help.

This seems obvious, of course. Part of being a loving husband and wife is being able to help one another in this way. But I have a terrible habit of forgetting this. I try to bear everything alone.

This time I pushed past my panic and spoke. He listened. And somewhere in the listening and loving and gently encouraging, he transferred the weight of the world from my shoulders onto his and turned my whole perspective around. I was even able to have a few realizations about family issues that were so cathartic and eye-opening, they brought me to tears.

I was reminded, yet again, that he is the one I should always talk to – because if not him, then who? He is my closest friend, my best sounding board, my emotional safe place. All as it should be.

So, at times, these late night/early morning drives out are as much of a gift as the hiking or work. Watching deer scamper back into the woods as we drive farther into the country, seeing shooting stars, and stopping on the side of a dark road to gaze at the clear, breathtaking universe above our heads are all extra.


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