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I’ve been thinking about definining moments of everyday life, especially with everything going on in my family of late.  But last night’s events helped crystalize my thinking into two words: Marshmallows and rocks.  

As in….Me Marshmallow, Hubby Rock.  Kate Marshmallow, Glen Rock.  Daddy Marshmallow, Mother Rock.

Married couples in my family support the notion that opposites do indeed attract.  And after last night, if there was ever any doubt, we now know Kara is marshmallow and Joe is the Rock.

I was thankful the resident rock of our household was the one to take Kara’s distress call, when it came in about 5pm yesterday afternoon.  Always off in my own little world, not paying too much attention to Don’s telephone call, I heard the soothing sounds of my husband’s voice talking to the caller.  But as my husband’s voice climbed the stairs and rounded the corner to my writing desk, and when I over heard him assuring the caller that we were on our way, I knew something big had gone down.  And that in spite of my husband’s calm collected exterior, it was time to worry and pray. 

I was in the midst of doing a little housewife drudgery — paying bills, updating Quicken, filing paperwork — but I literally dropped everything, leaving my unfinished business strewn across the room.  I didn’t even save my Quicken file, though thankfully, I had the forethought to put our little termite terrier into her crate.  My husband wasn’t as collected as his appearance suggested, for he walked out the door, leaving his freshly prepared sandiwch on the counter  for our poodle Max to help himself, which Max does on a regular basis.

As we locked the door behind us, Don filled me in on the sketchy particulars while we walked to our car.  The short version is that Kara’s Rock hit his head and blacked out, leaving marshallow Kara in charge of her rocked world.  Though Kara nit-picks her performance to death,  I say she did beautifully under the circumstances.  Kara got us there, then called Joe’s oral surgeon to demand emergency advice (Joe had oral surgergy yesterday) and then called 911.  And after doing all that, Kara looked at my husband and me; and realizing the enormity of what had just transpired, she began to cry.  So my Rock gathered Kara in his arms to give Kara a strengthening hug.  And then I followed Kara and Joe to the ER to sit by Kara’s side, as the ER team gave Joe a thorough checking over before releasing him to go home. 

It’s good to report that this time we got by with just a scare.   And that once again, all is well.   And in the tired morning after, after a long week of family stress, what else is there to say?  Except that housewife drudgery can be a lovely thing.  And that the clarity gained from last night’s emergency makes me realize how much marshmallows and rocks need one another.  Rocks get too hard and unfeeling without their marshmallows by their side to keep them soft.  And as I witnessed last night, marshmallows need a rock by their side to weather the trials of life. 

Only together can we work it out.

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