We all do invisible jobs that we get no credit for.

I was sweeping out the garage recently -- all those leaves that blow in when the door is up -- and thinking that no one appreciates, or even notices, that I'm doing it. My wife drives her car in and just expects that the cement floor will be free of leaves (or trash or whatever). I also walk the yard and pick up branches that have blown off our trees and put them into trash bins. And I mow the yard every week in the summer, even though no one has walked on it since the last time I mowed it. All this work I do, with no thanks.

But she does hers, too. Keeping things neat inside, taking care of grown kids' complaints, making holidays special with decorations, even doing the taxes.

We all do invisible jobs -- invisible to anyone but us -- and get no credit, much less thanks.

Why do we do them? Why do I, from time to time, re-organize the drawers in the kitchen, tossing out or donating old utensils? No one notices, much less appreciates. Why does she replace things on the wall or on the mantel? Does anyone notice or appreciate? No way.

I guess we do these "invisible" jobs because they're important to us, to keep a sense of order. For many years now, I've been taking out the trash, which involves going from room to room to be sure I've gotten everything that needs to be thrown out. Could my wife do it? Of course. But it's become my job. Why? Maybe because I grew up in a home that was kind of trashy, where things accumulated way past time to get rid of them. So it becomes my job to keep our home clear of that kind of waste. And because I assume that job, it's taken for granted that I'll do it.

That's what I mean by invisible jobs. I think there are tasks we assume because they mean something to us and so we do them, but, in doing so, we absolve everyone else from the responsibility. And, in the end, everyone just assumes we'll keep doing them. They forget that we do them. They become invisible. They just get done, but no one knows how.

I remember a woman whose husband died and who was dismayed to realize, as the months went on and the seasons changed, how much he had done to keep the yard and the driveway clear, the cars lubed and tuned, how he had pruned branches from the backyard trees, how he had coiled the hoses in winter and stored them in the garage. How he had made coffee for her every morning so that she had it when she woke, sleepy and in need of a caffeine dose.

On the other hand, I recall a man whose wife died and who realized that he didn't know how to cook anything -- or even shop for groceries. He also didn't know how to do the family's taxes.
Or clip flowers from the front yard and put them in vases on the table. All those years with that woman he loved, and he'd been in the dark about how much she did to keep the family going.

It's probably a mistake to try to claim credit for everything we do that no one notices -- those invisible jobs -- because, in a relationship, the other party has just as many as we do. But it might make sense, from time to time, to sit down together and remind each other of what makes a good marriage or partnership, what each of us does to keep that remarkable union on track. No finger-pointing, no posturing: just a sensible look at who does what -- and a mutual appreciation of what each of us does, however invisible.

Claim credit for what you do, for sure, but don't make a big deal out of it. If you're cool about it, and keep doing it, someone will notice.

And, besides, you weren't really doing it for them anyway, right? You would be doing the same for yourself.