, , , , ,

What happens when a sensible girl from the Midwest with eastern European, stoic traits marries a boy with half-Spanish blood who is highly emotional and exuberant and passionate about nearly everything he does? It’s not always a pretty picture, I’ll tell you that much.

It’s like the joke I heard recently: There was a man in the Midwest that loved his wife so much that he almost told her once…yikes!

Well…it’s not quite like that between us but I do know communication isn’t my strong suit 100% of the time. There are times I’d rather not talk. There are times I know we should talk and “deal with things” but, oh, it’s more lovely to just sail along as the minutes tick by and keep things comfortable and without the conflict that often comes with “dealing with things.”


I suppose nobody enjoys that strife but I detest it so much that I’d just as soon put on my blinders and keep plugging along down the road thinking everything is just fine. Because if I think everything is just fine, then, perhaps, just maybe, it actually will be.

That works, for the most part. But it doesn’t work for my other half much of the time. Things bubble up. He becomes frustrated at my lack of addressing things. And, to his credit, he can tell when things are “bugging me” yet I am trying my best to act like everything is hunky-dory. He is perceptive, this Latin love of mine!

Maybe it’s the same for you. Maybe you’re the one who wants to address that big fish on the line and your spouse is the one who wants to just keep sailing along. For us, it has been 30 years now of doing this dance and working this through and I keep wondering, “When is this going to get easier? When will we have it ‘figured out’?”

I’m sure there are those marriages where it’s always smooth and easy but, somehow, I really don’t believe it.

Humans are too problematic.

We are difficult.

We are selfish.

We get stuck and focused on stupid, little things that really aren’t important and we waste not just seconds and minutes—we waste days and months and, sadly, years.

I don’t want that to be me so I keep trying to get it right. Because I do feel this way about my husband:

“His mouth is sweetness itself; he is altogether lovely.
This is my beloved, this is my friend”
–Song of Solomon 5:16

My friend. He is my friend that knows me well…too well. And maybe that is part of the problem. Our friends know us so we are comfortable and we think they know how we feel most of the time. We think it goes beyond words, which it does, but sometimes it doesn’t. Sometimes we still have to use our words.

Words are good and necessary and they need to be spoken. Often whether we think they are necessary or not…

I need to remember that I’m not always speaking just for me. I’m often speaking for him to hear me.

It’s a challenge, isn’t it? I do love a good challenge but, oy vey! It sure can be a lot of work that transcends challenging and enters frustrating.

But we keep plugging along, this friend and I.

My beloved.

And then I drink in the moments when it really is altogether lovely.