My Dad Already Paid the Caterer

Only the elite among us will recognize that line, but if you are not one of those precious few … get some culture. It’s from the critically acclaimed film A Night at the Roxbury starring Steve and Doug Butabi. While I could recite the film from memory and hold it cherished in my top ten all time faves, it’s not really the content that makes it so special to me, but the memories that come to mind when I think of it. Someone’s taste in film or television shows can be a litmus test of what kind of person they are, what their interests are and if that will be compatible for you in the long run. Growing up in my family, television and film genres are a bit of a sorting hat a la Harry Potter but everyone generally likes to gather around the tube and catch whatever is on. Ergo, I’m hopelessly a child of the 90s and love everything television and film, which has not waned even after entering adulthood. And by that I mean I’ve already reached the point in my life when I only watch things from ‘my era’ (read: reruns of CSI, SVU and NCIS) which includes, of course, classic comedies and old school action flicks. The man who would go on to be my husband learned this about me pretty quickly during the first few weeks of dating. Between us hens- I actually made him watch ANATR twice in the span of one weekend. Not only did he let me do it, he even lets me put it on every now and then to this day. For many reasons I knew he was the other half to my soul, but the indulgence in my television love language is unmatched. 

When I met my husband almost ten years ago, I was pleasantly surprised and relieved to learn he was a Catholic conservative from a solid family with a decent job for his age. Not because I was devoutly religious or even firm or outspoken on my political beliefs, but because I wouldn’t have to worry that we’d be on the same page when it came to the big stuff. Right from the beginning, he provided a sense of stability and peace in the chaos of modern life in a bustling, progressive city. The early years of our relationship were full of fun, new experiences, learning one another and discovering the excitement of doing things with someone you love. But we were not immune from the crushing weight of student loan debt that a lot of those in our generation experienced/are experiencing as well, which stifled a lot of frivolity and carefreeness that we would have otherwise enjoyed in our early-mid twenties. Until recently and reviewing my life up through this point, looking through the lens of glorifying God, I’m grateful I didn’t have the chance to squander what I definitely otherwise would have. The hardest part of any lesson is learning to say no yourself, rather than someone -or life- doing it for you. I won’t pretend I’ve reached that point yet on everything, but I can admit I’ve learned the hard way that money doesn’t buy happiness, it just burns a hole in your pocket until you have no pockets or pants left. You know who you want to be there while you’re standing there butt naked and broke? The person who was always standing there from the beginning, in a (literal) crumby apartment watching corny ass 90s movies and laughing so hard there are tears in your eyes. Not because the comedy is so good, though it is, but the experience and commentary of watching it together is something I’ll hold in my heart for the rest of my life. 

When I talked to my husband about staying home with the girls full time, I asked him to take the weekend to think about it but ultimately he would have to trust me and trust my trust in God. Even though we are cradle Catholics that both come from relatively large and mostly practicing Catholic families, we weren’t consistently going to mass or participating in the faith in any concerted way. We had seasons of great church attendance, hit all the major holidays, stressful times that we leaned and relied on God heavily, and always affirmed our faith when we were asked. But in reality, we were Catholics on the surface and nothing deeper. That changed pretty drastically in the fall of last year, which happens to coincide with our wedding anniversary. Last month we celebrated six years of marriage and I can happily report that I love my husband the way Christ calls us to. Not that it’s sunshine and birds singing every moment of everyday, because that’s a fairytale to be honored and respected. But it is to say that I didn’t always have the depth or dimension that I do now that I view him and our marriage in Christ’s image and relationship with the Church. “Be subordinate to one another out of reverence for Christ … As the church is subordinate to Christ, so wives should be subordinate to their husbands in everything. Husbands, love your wives, even as Christ loved the church and handed himself over for her to sanctify her, cleansing her by the bath of water with the word, that he might present to himself the church in splendor, without spot or wrinkle or any such thing, that she might be holy and without blemish. So husbands should love their wives as their own bodies. He who loves his wife loves himself” (Ephesians 5:21, 24-29). That all sounded very nice and flowery to me six years ago when we were doing our Pre-Cana marriage prep class, but it would be dishonest to say I felt the weight of those words and the meaning they were meant to convey. I’ve been humbled to learn just how much my husband did, does, should, will and forevermore mean to me. I need my husband, the way the church needs Christ and he cherishes me, the way Christ did and died for his church. 

Because I can’t help but see myself and my life through television and film, which is supposed to be the point of this article, life lately feels like the scene from the end of Safe Haven when Julianne Hough realizes the mom is in the room with her, not the rest of us. Sorry for the spoiler, it's still a great film to bawl your eyes out to and I highly recommend. But when she looks back on the last few days/weeks to see how that could be possible, to see all of the ways she was led, obviously by the HIMYM lady, to where she’s supposed to be-in the arms of Josh Duhamel?! I mean … How beautiful! That is nothing like my life previously or now. But the exercise of thinking back over the last few years to see just how I ended up here, proudly in the arms of my own leading hunk (he will hate to read that), is what I’d like to share a little bit about. There is a sad situation at hand in our modern culture where divorce is not only commonplace, but celebrated and encouraged, for us to free ourselves and look out for number one. Individualism will be the kiss of death of this generation. That is not to say there aren’t circumstances where divorce, or annulment, is the only option and that is always a very difficult and painful process that no one escapes unscathed. Some of the most important people in my life that I respect and love have gone through, or been impacted by, this -including myself and siblings- which is all the more reason I feel called to share the ways that God has saved my marriage. Maybe sharing parts of my story will help others or at the very least give some comfort from a reformed INDEPENDENT WOMAAAAAN that we too are capable of salvation, grace, and true freedom. Remember, you’re never alone when you’re with Christ (Ted). 

I used to value, prioritize and just chase above all else - independence. Before my wings had a chance to melt, I felt the pull of God to slow down, leave my job, raise my family, and serve my husband. Now, to write that and let alone read it back to myself feels like an out of body experience. I used to read posts or articles with this kind of language and briefly long for the seemingly perfect setup these women appeared to have, only to snap out of it and get back to work. It felt unreachable and therefore not even thinkable, so I forged ahead with the plan to reach independence. After all, I had worked my ass off to get to the point I had in my career and wanted to give my children a life of ease that I didn’t have. I’m sure many, if not all mothers or parents in general, feel this way or some version of it. But it took reaching the point of independence, so burnt out and frustrated that I was doing it all by myself (or felt at least as though I was), to learn what a corrupted path I’d been on. Whether consciously aware of it or not, my attention, time, loyalty in some ways, allegiance in other ways, was competing for dominance among my job, my children, my husband, my family and other parts of my life at one time or another (e.g. reformer pilates, fertility tracking, Titan submersible implosion). The simplicity in leaving all of that behind is that my time, attention, loyalty, allegiance, respect, honor, love, sacrifice and all other points of purpose are now consolidated within my family led by my husband. I don’t have to worry about the windfalls of missing a deadline, of saying the wrong thing in a Teams meeting, remembering picture day, rescheduling pediatrician appointments all while resenting my husband for seemingly going about his life without a care in the world for all that I’m doing. That setup was poisonous for us and would have rotted our family from the inside out. But what about my poor husband? The one who has never for a moment given up on me, despite my many attempts to push him to that point. What did he have to give up to be the breadwinner, with a subservient wife and loving, well-behaved children, in a sparkling clean home with woodland creatures waiting for his return from work? I’m sure he’ll tell us if that ever happens. The roles we’ve since assumed since making this change have come with some growing pains and a learning curve, but through the grace of God and the patience only He could bestow, we’ve actually reinforced the foundation of our marriage and filled in the cracks with forgiveness, humility, teamwork, honesty, and love. At the end of the day, you have to really love someone to go along with their wild eyed frantic ideas they promise are the Lord telling them what to do. In some versions of that story, the ending is a call to 911. Let’s hope ours never becomes one of those … Kidding! That’s for me to watch on television, this is real life. 

I took for granted how much my husband trusts me, because if the roles were reversed, I don’t know if I would have considered changing my entire life and lifestyle because he had a spiritual enlightenment. He could have very easily, and in some circumstances deservedly, written this off as one of my more manic, flighty ideas and waited me out. He could have picked this fight and argued his points for keeping things the way they were. He could have lobbied to keep the comfort of financial security, as fleeting as that is, over taking a huge risk by living in this economy in a new house with 2025 interest rates on one income. Previously, we jointly shared the burden of financially caring for our family, lifestyle, retirement, future weddings-God willing, and other life plans and responsibilities. That weight now falls entirely on him and he took it on with purpose, determination, grit and a refusal to fail. When things started to turn sour at his job, another opportunity seemed to land right in his path just before disaster struck. Maybe it was my fevered prayers and psycho smiling through the fear that we were going to lose everything … but something worked! He found a position that engages his knowledge but allows him to grow, in an industry that he finds interesting and valuable, under a mentor who only wants to see him succeed. Reaching this point has been a long and difficult road, but he made something of himself despite every obstacle. He has carried his cross, fallen more than once, but gets up everyday ready to pick it up again and keep walking, as long and as far as it takes, to provide for his family. That is the husband I am proud to be a wife to, and look forward to serving but also my family, which includes myself, by keeping a clean home, raising our children, and living our faith. I was doing parts of that intermittently before, but with anger and bitterness, because I felt underappreciated and overlooked. I can happily report that I’ve embraced the domestic lifestyle, less exciting but more enriching day to day of child raising, and second chair, chief of staff role that I was made for. I feel more valued, seen, appreciated, supported, and irreplaceable now then I ever did before.

In some ways we had to make this rash and seemingly drastic, at least sudden, change. Kind of a jump and find out how to fly on the way down type of thing (lest our wings sizzle right off), because it forced us to confront the cracks in our marriage, fortify our weaker points, truly celebrate our strengths and learn to put God at the center of our lives. We vowed to do that six years ago and until recently we have put many things at the center of our lives, for some seasons it was God but mostly it was whatever was driving either of us at the time. Something I’ve learned since reverting is that God doesn’t call us to abandon our goals, joys, hobbies, pursuits that interest us. Unless those things are hairy and I think you know if it is, I’ll leave that to each their own. But if our goals are for the betterment of our family, our hobbies bring joy to our lives, even television shows that interest us; all of those are now richer with God at the center of my life. Which means our family has only gotten stronger and more faithful but also more driven, more interested in enriching activities, and even our time together is lighter and feels more joyful. There is something indescribable to finding your vocation, which I’ve definitely had the blessing of experiencing and sharing with those closest to me. But to find purpose, meaning, the missing ingredient, falling in love with my husband all over again - was an unexpected and yet wholly necessary part of this transition to staying home. He trusted my faith in God and I have full and complete trust in him. Him, too, obv. 

Six years ago, my dad paid the caterer and we vowed to love, honor, respect and cherish each other in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, for better or worse, for as long as we both shall live. To the man who said yes then and everyday since then, you were always and will forever be the answered prayer I bent God’s (and some girlfriends) ear for. I’m not me without you. Thank you for loving and leading us.