Or at least, on my marriage. Yesterday was a special day for me. January 7th wasn't a birthday, or anniversary, or indeed any particular date of note in and of itself. But January 7th, 2020 marked the day where I had been married to my wife longer than I had ever been single. Yes, I counted.
And while on one hand it represents just a statistical oddity, and was marked by no great fanfare, it was nonetheless important to me. And it struck me as the sort of thing that Cass would have marked on VC back in the day. And moreso, she would have some valuable insight into the institution of marriage, or time, or the relationship between men and women that would have sparked an interesting discussion. As I said, I've been reading my way through the archives (currently I'm on September of 2013), and I decided that since she's not posting about this sort of thing at the moment, I'll do my best to channel the inner Cassandra and find something interesting to observe. I can't promise I'll be successful.
So unlike some milestones in life (birthdays, anniversaries, etc) I feel this one is important in a way they are not. We measure the passing of time by the revolution of our planet around the sun. One year is one revolution. Sure, there are some that measure by a lunar calendar that ends up working out to a similar amount of time, but even those are quite arbitrary. Some science fiction notes this, and uses "Earth Standard Time" or some such measure to give reasons why colonists on Mars don't "live shorter lives" due to Mars rotating around the Sun more slowly, just they live for "fewer years".
No, unlike all that, I have spent more time as a married man than I have all my life prior to that. If I had gotten married at the age of 7, perhaps that would be less impressive, but even so that means I have lived in the same household (same house, in point of fact) with another person longer than I have with anyone else on the planet. I have spent more time with this woman than with anyone else I have ever known. And what have I learned?
Well, for one thing I know that I will never fully know her. It's just not possible. I don't think there's an amount of time we could spend together, talk to each other, and share our innermost thoughts that would allow me to think as she does, or even accurately guess how she will react to something. I am constantly learning new things about her. Another thing I now know is that I don't think even after all this time we are able to share our deepest fears and secrets. And I don't know that it would be a good thing for us to try. I literally would trust her with my life, my assets, with my very being... but opening up and sharing my inner demons is something I don't know that I could bring myself to do. And I am sure it is the same for her.
There is still a fear in her that one day I might leave her. I have tried to warn her that she's stuck with me, but her inner insecurities convince her that I still might break my vows and walk away from her. It's not rational, but it's real for her. I don't have a reciprocal fear of her leaving me. Hopefully that's not presumptuous. But I don't think I would give her cause to.
I have learned that, in the words of my maternal grandfather, "Love is not some hot, passionate thing... It's what your [grand]mother and I have... I've grown used to her". Ineloquent, perhaps, but true nonetheless. I can honestly say I'd just as soon cut off my own arm and cast it away than leave her. It seems like an equally ludicrous proposition. Not to say the hot passionate thing wasn't real, or wasn't love. But it's not the totality of love. The deep, abiding comfort I get from knowing she's waiting there for me at the end of the day is profound.
Did I learn all this on January 7th, 2020? Not hardly. The date merely made me reflect on it. Do I think there's a broader lesson about men and women? Perhaps in that there is a secret place in all of us that no matter how much we love, and know, and trust someone else that we're afraid to show. But I fully admit, that I don't know all there is to know... even about the one person I know as near to as well as myself as anyone else on the planet. So take that for what it's worth.
11 comments:
Thanks for that. It seems to me what you wrote is worth a lot.
I was blessed to marry my high school sweetheart, and I remember well that date, now long ago, when I had lived with her longer than my father's family. There are blessings out there for those who would learn to count them.
This is a fine piece, Mike. I knew you had written it within a few words, so clear is your voice here.
My wife I think has no fear I will leave her. We aren’t quite at the point of having been together longer than not, but it’s close. I keep trying to help her realize her vision for herself, so that at death she will be satisfied with the life she wrought. She, in return, is patient with me.
It’s not the worst thing. Maybe it’s the very best thing. In any case, it is what we do. I don’t even want to do anything else anymore.
It’s not the worst thing. Maybe it’s the very best thing. In any case, it is what we do. I don’t even want to do anything else anymore.
This exactly. It is what we do, and I don't want to do anything else anymore. Exactly.
This is a fine piece, Mike. I knew you had written it within a few words, so clear is your voice here.
I consider this high praise and thank you gratefully for it.
I started counting, inspired by your post. I have been married almost twice as long as I was single. The exact 1/3-2/3 mark falls in the time of our engagement.
I use the phrase "It is who we are" to say much the same thing. This is our life, and we have it. It seems so automatic that I am reminded of the joke of the man who was asked if he had ever wanted another wife. "Well, I don't know." he shook his head. "I don't think I could find anyone the missus and I could agree on."
We raised two sons and called it The Great Work of our lives, then adopted two more late and called that the Great Work of our lives. A few years later our nephew became our fifth son and we called that the Great Work of our lives. But it was always seen as something we did together, perhaps destined to do together.
Give me a boat, that can carry two
And both shall row, my love and I.
Mike, I started a comment earlier and had to bail out (meeting at work). This really is a lovely post - made me tear up!
We're coming up on 41 years of marriage - we met when the Spousal One was 18 and I was 17. Hard to believe. I've always felt lucky to have my husband, but lately that feeling has really intensified. I don't worry about him leaving, but I'm far more conscious of how losing him would be like losing a part of myself (even though he's a separate person). The older we get, the more our lives are intertwined, to the point where it's hard to think of life without this man who has made my life so much richer and more worth living.
Hopefully only the good kind of tears! Consider it a small repayment for one of many of your excellent posts which did the same for me.
And honest to goodness, my grandfather's "birds and bees" talk to my mother before her wedding (which I basically gave in its entirety in this post) really seems less humorous as I get older and more like really good advice.
Married at 26, now 36 years of marriage. Hard to imagine life without him.
I've always thought that Mrs. MikeD was a very lucky woman :)
I got up this morning and went downstairs to get coffee (if only I could figure out how to mainline the stuff...). The Unit leaves early, usually before I get up. For years I got up at 4 so we'd be on the same schedule, but the last few years I "discovered" (!) that my migraines are way better if I take it easy in the morning. So now I get up sometime between 6 and 8:30. Still haven't quite gotten used to not seeing him in the morning before work, even though we never really talked at all before.
Anyway, he had put out my favorite coffee cup and all the stuff I like to put in it.
Such a little thing, really, but I started the day feeling like he'd just given me a hug. Over the years, the accumulation of all those little things amounts to something pretty significant.
Awww! That's the equivalent of a dozen long-stemmed roses right there.
I really do wish you could meet her. I feel like I'm the lucky one.
That's the equivalent of a dozen long-stemmed roses right there.
It really was!
@MikeD: I really do wish you could meet her. I feel like I'm the lucky one.
I expect you two are evenly matched - that seems to be a characteristic of the best marriages.
When I met my husband, I had this sense that we were well suited, overall. That doesn't sound very romantic (and I had plenty of romantic feelings about him), but something just "fit". I felt neither of us would overpower the other - that we were a good match. We'd both have to try hard to keep each other's respect and love, and that seemed like a good basis for a long term relationship.
It's funny - we still tussle a bit about some things but I expect that's not all bad. I think people have to stand up for themselves in marriage, so long as that's balanced by not expecting everything to be perfectly fair all the time or an exact 50-50 split.
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