WHAT IS LOVE?

I suppose when you're young

love has a lot to do with how your body feels. That's the first stage, maybe, and it lasts until you've been married about a year.

The second stage of love is one of compromise: you learn to live with this alien creature from a far planet who sees things so much differently than you do; this stage lasts until you've been married about twelve years. Not many relationships develop the give and take that these years of compromise require: this is when you have to learn that marriage is not a 50-50 proposition, it's 60-40. Both of you need to give 60%, while expecting 40% in return.

The third stage of love? The years of resignation from Year 12 through Year 25, when you're doing what you have to do, trying to hold your place in the world, pay the bills, get the kids to school on time, show up for work every day; and she's doing the same. It's a blur. Life becomes a tag-team event, and you hope to God that when you need a break from everything, you can tag your spouse and she will step in the ring to wrestle the devil while you catch your breath.

After twenty-five years of marriage, you break through to the other side of love. That's where everything that used to seem so difficult and so urgent - well, none of it is such a big deal any longer. Now it's more like you are two horses in harness and you're both pulling the same plow; and you're okay with that. It's hard work still, but you're comfortable with each other and you're comfortable with the harness. By Stage Four you have found comfort. Oh, you might joke about it. You say "finding somebody else would be more trouble than putting up with you" because it's true. It takes at least twenty-five years to train a spouse properly. You say "Why would I want to start over with someone else?" But even as you say it, you know you're making a joke, and your spouse knows.

Stage Five comes some years after this; both of you have finally recognized and accepted and have even started to cherish each other's limitations. You can relish each other, warts and all. Perhaps these are the years of forgiveness: you forgive yourself for not being Superman and forgive your wife for not being Superwoman. You worry about her more than you've ever worried about yourself.

None of this means that it ever gets easy. It never ever gets easy. Afterall, you are still living with an alien creature. And it will be especially tough if both of you grew up as "oldest children," because you've both been socialized to think you're in charge. You are "He-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed" and she is "She-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed." It gets even worse, of course, if your decision-making style is "Let's pick one and get going" and your spouse's style is consultative to the point that she has to ask everyone you know or might know who has or might have knowledge or experience or opinion relevant to this decision or one like it, or who knows or might know someone who does have or might have such knowledge, experience, or opinion, or even a funny anecdote to tell about the consequences of some such decision made by themselves or by someone they know or might know, whom you should talk to, of course, before you make your own mistake. Or so it sometimes seems to you.

You learn to be very careful when you're both hungry. Your low blood sugar and her low blood sugar can combine to turn a tiny question into a major argument. The storm blows up in an instant and you're both surprised: "Ohhh, where did that come from?"

And, as neither of you likes to decide where to go when you want to go out to eat, you make a rule that one of you makes the decision on "even" days, the other one makes the decision on "odd" days. How do you remember who does even and who does odd? Well, you get the odd days because you're truly odd, Tom.

Sure, you'll still be "Bicker & Quibble" to your daughters and anyone else who knows you very well, because you still have to push and shove a notion back and forth between you to get to resolution and understanding. You've practiced this form of negotiation for much of a lifetime. It doesn't mean you don't love each other; in fact, you can learn to love each other more. When your friend tells you "If you're gonna talk like that, add 'Darling' to the end of your sentence," you find you can express your love even as you work out your disagreements, e.g. "If you want to turn the damn canoe, you have to paddle hard on the other side, Tom, I mean DAR-ling."

So how did I learn about love and its stages?

I'll tell you how: today is our 35th wedding anniversary. Happy anniversary, Mary!

Comments

[suzanne]

major kudos to you both
may you have 35 active more

[Marja-Leena]

As I'm reading this, I find myself nodding from time to time...yes, that's us...and then comes the wonderful punchline. Congratulations on 35 years of togetherness, and best wishes for many more!

We had our 35th too, last May! Where did the time go?! :-)
We are becoming a rare breed, have you noticed?

[Tom Montag]

Suzanne & Marja-Leena--Thanks, both of you, for the good wishes. If the next 35 years go as quickly as the past 35, it'll be over in a flash. Yes, we wonder too - how is it possible that it has been 35 years already? I suppose if you make 35 years married, then you OUGHT TO make it all the way to the end. I couldn't have a better pardner.

[beth]

Congratulations, Tom, and thank you for this oh-so-true commentary on marriage. We've only had 25 years of practice but, hey, it's just about as you said.

[ntexas99]

A hearty congratulations and a nod of appreciation and respect; may you have many more years of companionship and love.

[Tom Montag]

Beth & NT99--thanks to both of you for your good wishes. I'm expecting that the best is yet to come.

[Siona]

Oh, what a wonderful post! I was wondering where you were going with it . . . so happy anniversary! (Mary is a lucky woman. I'm sure you're a no less fortunate man.) Congratulations again, and again, may there be many, many more.

[Tom Montag]

Oh, Siona, thanks! Mary and I are fortunate companions on this ship of life, though admittedly she has more to put up with in me than vice-versa. We hope for many more years.