I'm not sure if any one of us is ever really taught or trained properly for relationships. Especially the married/long term, commitment filled kind. There’s something about the piece of paper, that is so, well…permanent. It’s in writing. A contract. The wedding is fun and great, but ultimately you are legally bound to one another. Is this natural?
I like to think that successful, happy relationships are plentiful and that we all had the chance to witness our parents and grandparents, our neighbors and friends as they thrived in these relationships as we were growing up. As the years roll by and the generations mesh into one another, it seems like less and less of us make it through to the end. I often wonder how my own children will view a long term relationship as they go to enter into one of their own, if they so decide.
I have always questioned whether we, as human beings, were meant to commit to one another for our ENTIRE ADULT LIFE, from a physiological stand point. From the beginning, I felt somewhat uneasy at the prospect of it as a child. Fairy tale endings did not make sense to me and definitely felt like they belonged in the fiction department. I always thought that I personally was doomed traveling down that avenue. My parents had a tumultuous relationship and divorced when I was a teenager. My grandparents had a great marriage that lasted 65 years. I think that some of both rubbed off on me. I knew that I wanted to marry and have kids, but somewhere deep down inside, I thought I had some kind of a defect. Too flighty, too fickle, too wishy-washy.
After the age of 22 or so, I remember latching on to any man that paid attention to me beyond 3 or 4 weeks, as long as they didn’t seem too needy. I would have married three or four of them if they would have asked (and a few did), because I really wanted to get the technicality out of the way. I figured there had to be more than one soul mate out there for everyone. How could there be just one? Some part of me felt that I was not capable of marriage, but to get what I wanted in life it was necessary.
Despite my misgivings, I did it anyway. I did it because I met a man who really got me. I loved him and he really dug me. We had, and still have, a chemical connection that I can’t describe fully in words, but it is the strongest force, next to the love that binds me to our children, that I have ever felt. It still feels that way. Stronger than the day I married him.
That all noted, it does not mean that he and I live in perfection. He and I are challenged all of the time with the question “How are we are going to keep it together?” Almost every day.
We have our defined roles. We both work hard at our jobs. I do a lot of shuffling of the kids, while he runs his own business. If it has to do with the dump, the lawn, the exterior of the house or the electrical, it’s all him. If it has to do with school, our homes interior or any type of shopping, it’s all me. We never really discussed this, it just happened that way. He hates when I put things in the garage just to get them out of my way and I can’t stand the way he chews his food sometimes.
My assessment of my husband is that he resembles a modern day ‘Archie Bunker’. Curmudgeon-like at times, pessimistic for the most part, and very grounded. He makes snap judgments about people (and is almost ALWAYS right) as soon as he meets them. He is conservative with his money, yet surprisingly current and somewhat liberal on most social views. He is very funny. A big teddy bear. Endearing. You either love him or you don’t. He hardly ever raises his voice. He hardly ever calls me by my first name. He hardly ever gets drunk.
He is 6’3”. I am 5’2”. I snore when I sleep and have a tendency to swear like a truck driver. He sleeps soundly and peacefully and is a man of few words. When I do snore and wake him up in the middle of the night, he nudges me gently and whispers in my ear, “You’re snoring, roll over”, and then never mentions it the next day. I am up in the clouds and he has his feet firmly planted on the ground. I am the balloon and he holds the string. And when I am in flight mode, he reminds me to come on back down to earth, in the gentlest of ways.
I often say with all seriousness, that without him, we would be homeless. I would offer up ‘the farm’ on a bet, while he would never even think about it.
I weigh 35 lbs. (honestly, 40 lbs.) more today than the day we got married, yet he would swear to you that I could still fit into my wedding dress, and of course, I am not going to challenge him.
I hear other people tell me how they stay up all night with their boyfriend or husband talking about this or that. We never have. We could never talk all night, but sometimes we just make eye contact and we instinctively know how each other feels. He tells me all the time that I am pretty (something that still makes this 43 year old woman blush like a school girl). I think he is handsome and I love the way he smells just naturally.
Yesterday, I had a bad day. A really bad day. I am not quite sure why, but I did. I have had these types of days before. I began to question everything. All kinds of things started to go through my head: “What am I doing?” “I really suck a this.” “What are we going to have in common in 6 years when our kids are both gone?” “We are so opposite from one another.” “Do we have what it takes?”
And then…he reminds me. As I lay in a heap in my bed, suffering from my ‘bad day’, he comes into the room and wraps around me. He comforts me and reassures me. He reminds that he and I are a team. We don’t lie or cheat, because we respect each other. He has never called me a name in anger. Never. Not once. I wish I could say the same about me in regards to him.
We are not perfect. We brush by each other. We sometimes don’t consult one another when we should. We sometimes don’t pay attention to each other’s needs. We forget and need to remind each other to be a couple. But we are in it together. He never reads my blogs and I don’t go to his softball games.
What he does do for me is something that is rare. He stays. He appreciates. He loves and cares for me and our children unconditionally and is respectful. I adore him, even though he can certainly piss me off like no one else can. As we are now in the 17th year of our marriage, he reminds me that change is inevitable and we will weather it together. We will grow together. Grow old together.
I once read an article written about a couple that had been married for 70 years. Now both in their late 80's, the interviewer asked the couple what the secret to their marriage was. The wife responded with “We never fell out of love with each other at the same time.”
Not perfect. There are no guarantees.
So, if someday he is on this earth without me, someone remember to show him this. He knows, but sometimes it’s just nice to see it in writing.
