Archives August 2015

Darling Sylvia,
I vividly remember our first fight in the fall of 1967. We were leaving Tyler Dining Hall. The fight started when you stated the obvious; “It’s your attitude – Eddie!” I laughed and shared with the young married resident advisors of Mitchell Hall approaching on the sidewalk that it was ‘my attitude.’ They joined me in my mirth.
What I did was wrong in so many ways. I had heard ‘your attitude’ from Mrs. Stripe (Spanish teacher), Bruce Smith (basketball coach), Denny Stoltz (football coach), my mother, and now I was hearing it from the person that would become the most important person in my life. With so many important people in my life in agreement, I realized that my attitude did need to improve.
At 20, I had not mastered the skill of straight talk. I had not (1) sensed (seen the hives on your neck) , (2) I had not identified how I felt (a 20 year old defensive end in 1967 did not have feelings), (3) I thought absurdly that everything I did was from my great intellect, (4) I wanted to be close to you and (5) I had brought others into what you had privately said. My action had not matched my wishes, and you had been humiliated in public by the boy you loved.
After 49 years of wanting to be close to you, I am still struggling with the skills that make up straight talk. I do a lot better with feelings (yes, I do have them and now can name them occasionally), I sometimes still have a problem identifying what I intend or want to achieve (which is to be a better man and to be closer to you), and I still may act like an idiot. Have patience; our work is not yet done. I am still a work in progress.
This letter is a very belated and public repair attempt. And, in the present, I am very sorry that I got so pissed off at you Thursday when the roofers came just as we sat down to a supper of your wonderful eggplant pizza.

Love you, Doll,

Eddie Bert

Our “retirement” is much more active than we anticipated. Our family needs us in ways we did not plan. There are still endless tasks to be accomplished. In stress, I regress to old strategies, the “default” settings of my personality. My “default” says, “If you don’t do it/fix it, it won’t get fixed.” So, I climb back on the gerbil wheel, striving to exhaustion to fix.

I need to stop. Yesterday, I was glad to go to my prayer group. I know that the discipline focuses me in helpful ways. But, even in the middle of the reading, my mind said, “There was a box of spaghetti on the counter. Wonder how much is in it? Last time, we had to cook extra. Must add to list.” Really?

Likewise, when I revert to “default,” Eddie and I as a couple get lost. We know that we gain sustenance from retreating into our “Couple Bubble.” That is a blessed place where we are listened to, where we affirm each other, and where, sometimes, we can just BE. We zipped to Michigan for Eddie’s high school reunion weekend. We went to the parties, but we also took some time to BE together. We took what his folks called “A ride to Mancelona.” We walked by the Au Sable river. We just lay on the big Bed and Breakfast four-poster and listened to the neighborhood sounds filtering in through the tall bright second-floor windows—windows like those in our honeymoon apartment.

In reality, no “fix” is possible. Life is life. Life has both trials and blessings. I need to remember where I get my sustenance; I need to remember where Eddie and I get our couple sustenance. I need to act on what I have learned.