Four Lessons for Marital Survival
Recently, I came across a miniature replica of the Chapel where my husband and I exchanged our wedding vows. I knew I had to have it.
As the clerk tallied my purchase, she asked, “How long have you been married?”
“Almost 18 years,” I replied.
“My goodness, you married young,” she said. “It’s nice to see young people believe in their vows and not become a statistic.”
She made that statement as if that was all it had taken to make my marriage work. But, I knew there were many lessons along the way—not just believing in those vows...
For better—with a teen-ager as a built in babysitter, life is much better.
For worse—set-backs, such as, one plant shutdown, two company layoffs, a husband in ICU for spinal fusion—definitely worse.
For richer—when? We haven’t hit any jackpots or lotteries, but I guess we need to play first.
For poorer—with two kids in braces, we’re a lot poorer. Someone has to pay for the wonderful new orthodontist’s office.
That conversation touched off many memories. I recalled the commotion our wedding announcement caused.
One mutual friend responded, “You won’t make it five year! You’ll be divorced.” We did, he didn’t.
My husband’s co-worker stated, “It won’t last one year.” A relative (my husband’s) agreed with that notorious quotation. Well, we defied the odds and breezed through that first year. No one mentioned the next 17.
The odds were against us—our age, barely reaching our 20th birthdays. One income, when two were a necessity. And last, our reason for marrying at a chapel, our religious denominations—I’m Catholic, he’s Jewish.
Muddling our way through the past 18 years of sometimes troubled waters needed more than those vows to keep our marriage intact. Learning the four lessons of Marital Survival kept us from becoming another statistic.
Lesson One: When compromise gives us time alone
I compromised. I went from wondering, who in their right mind would hit a little white ball with a metal stick, down a field of grass, to make it roll into an itty, bitty hole, to golfing weekly, with my husband and actually enjoying it.
What can I say? It’s just the two of us, in a secluded area, (we always pick the off time to golf) where no one expects me to cook or clean.
Lesson Two: When a tiff is worth the trouble
During the upheaval of a very difficult year (I’ll give him that), my husband forgot my birthday. Yes, this was absolutely worth the trouble of a tiff—not just a small one either. This forgetfulness cost him dearly, and not just in the pocket. In years following, I can say he never forgot another one.
Lesson Three: When to go with the flow
Early in our marriage, I was astounded to realize our television (with hubby in charge of the control) played sports every hour of the day, whether it was baseball, hockey, skiing, or mud wrestling. The selection became diversified with the addition of basic cable, Tier 1 and Tier 2 cable. And when that failed—the wonderful world of satellite programs telecast from places such as Las Vegas, better known as Pay For View.
Our home became the stomping grounds for a group of sports fanatics. Going with the flow, I crossed the street for an evening of girl talk, with my neighbor, whose husband joined mine.
Lesson Four: How to negotiate with your spouse
I learned I can negotiate for anything, as long as I run an outdoor, short-order kitchen for a men’s softball tournament. Every spring, my husband runs this 24-team competition, I cook and serve a bunch of dirty, sweaty, sometimes slightly inebriated men for two-twelve-hour days.
In turn, every August, I go away for a girls’ weekend of chitchat, shopping, reading and relaxing. That weekend is worth those two twelve-hour days.
Our marriage began with vows, but those four lessons enabled us to keep our marriage intact. Without them, we wouldn’t be celebrating our 18th anniversary.
And when we celebrate our 20th anniversary, I’ll be sure to mail the three naysayers a postcard.
Copyright © 1998
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