Category: Marriage Enrichment

Have I told you lately that I love you? Sometimes, I forget to say the words. You are my candle in the night. Your smile lights up the whole room. You refuse to hide your light under a bushel.

I know that words of affirmation are your love language, but I forget to say the words. We are better together. You calm me when we dodge and dart through downtown Detroit traffic. You use my love offering of tomatoes, cukes, okra and squash without complaining. You encourage (not shame) me into weighing in every week at Weight Watchers. You count my pills. You keep the books and sit by my side at Dr. Rob’s Garden at the Waleska Farmers’ Market. You help me minister to my Methodist Men. But, have I told you?

You cuddle me when I am blue. You expect me to be a better man than I am. Your unconditional love picks me up when I fall. You love me when I do not love myself. Sylvia, you are the best. You have allowed me to live out the fantasy. I have the thoughts; I have the feelings. It is time that I told you.

Love – Eddie Bert

Have you remembered  to say the words?

What is your love language? Your mate’s?

Dear Eddie:  I am grateful for our learnings about closure. I always heard the word closure to mean that something was over. The answer was final, subject closed. I learned that final rarely happens.

The word closure is used regarding unanswered questions or unpleasant experiences that people wish would stop. We hear it on crime dramas when families want answers. We hear closure used regarding grief. Because grief hurts, and no one knows how to make grief stop, people may short circuit the process for others who are grieving. I long ago learned that missing my dad is on-going and pops up unexpectedly over the years. Revisiting grief honors the relationship missed. Named and reexperienced, in perhaps shorter pieces, grief never completely reaches closure. You and I talk about these griefs. Our talks further bond us.

Interesting for our relationship have been two other kinds of closure. First, you demanded closure as an escape when you were uncomfortable and wanted to stop talking about something. That closure was complicated by my inherent need to solve anything NOW, with a million words if necessary. When “Ed’s need for Closure” kicked in, I would feel shut down and devalued. I learned something important. Your need for closure when you were uncomfortable was about you, not about me. I learned you could be flooded with emotion or unable to process everything all at once. When I gave you space, you surprised me. You came back to the discussions on your own. You did care about my input. We worked through things together. That became our new pattern.

Second, I discovered that you would give closure to me, to us, as a gift despite your discomfort. I first recognized this gift the summer Mama was dying in the nursing home. You announced, “We will make the trip to Spain that we have planned.” You closed the yes/no conversation when I would have seen the trip as impossible. And together we figured out how to do it. You chose for us, over your own discomfort, and helped me with mine.

Darling Eddie, our patterns have shifted as we have grown. I love you.

Sylvia

Does the need for closure play a role in your relationship?

What does it say about your inner workings? About your spouse’s?

Are there ways those answers can draw you closer? Change your patterns?

Darling Sylvia,

I trust you; you have my back. You support me, but my taking your input requires you to read what I need and what I can accept. You have learned to match your support to my needs. You somehow divine when I need a hug and when I need a kick in the ass. You know when to listen to my words and when to listen to my heart. You are my safe space, my cheerleader, and my partner.

Your support makes safe space for me. You get me with my insecurities. You truly know I am an introvert in noisy clothing. My intuitions and roles I choose can take me outside of my comfort zone. The non-verbal three-year-old in me prefers to crawl back behind Mom’s corner china-closet. You recognize my tells, and I feel your support as I work myself through situations. You trust the end even if my process is sometimes uncomfortable for you.

Your support helps me face my fears. You hold my hand for prostate cancer appointments. You make me feel safer as I hear scary things. You allow me to voice my fears to you while remaining an “adult,” if I have to.

Your support is affirming in much more fun ways, too. You cheer on my commitments in the community. You stir grits at dawn while I fix breakfast to haul to church for the Methodist Men. You share the hospitality of our home with “my” groups of men and students.

You are a supportive partner with “my” hobby/business cut flower industry. I crave your “ooh—ahhhs” over what is blooming in the garden. At market, we share the work and the loveseat. You excel in community building. After market, we collapse together in our blue chair and rehash all the miracles of the day.

Some 58 years ago, I came back to the dorm from Lumberjack Park amazed that you loved me more than I loved myself. Sylvia, you are a good person, a loving mother and grandma, but you are my lover and my best friend. I won the most important lottery of all.

Love you.    Eddie B.

Dear Eddie: We just enjoyed one of our quarterly two-night getaways. This time, it was with the Better Marriages North Carolina folks. I enjoyed relaxing in intentional marriage enrichment space with you and only being responsible for one piece of programming. We spent a lot of time thinking and talking about being supportive spouses. In those conversations, and with that group of couples, I found myself being grateful for the love and support we have received from other couples in our married life.

Way back at Alma College, when we were engaged, I remember married couples who first treated us as another couple. Dr. and Mrs. Kapp and Dr. and Mrs. Eyer invited us to their homes for dessert and gave us wedding presents. I think they gave us more in support. I think they enjoyed their own marriages very much. They were all four dynamic interesting individuals who really liked their spouses. I think they saw us having the real possibility of growing into that kind of marriage. They kept us in their circle of support as long as they lived.

At the conference, I was grateful for the many couples who have shared their real marriages-ups and downs, joys and concerns, difficulties and learnings-with us over the years. We have admired them, yes, but more than that, I think we have been inspired by them to live genuinely, to risk talking about hard stuff, to see ourselves on a growth trajectory. They took risks, and they kept themselves in the support of other couples who did the same. They cracked sometimes but healed and grew.

I am grateful that you were and are willing to keep our marriage in what we call a marriage-friendly connection. We were barely thirty when we were invited into marriage enrichment. The support of that cloud of witnesses goes on even fifty years later and even after the deaths of many of our friends. I want every couple to find a trustworthy connection. They need other people who love their own spouses and want to grow and stay together.

Thank you always for taking the risk to live real with me and with those who support us. I love you.

Sylvia

Who supports your vision for your marriage? Who do you trust to have your best interest at heart?

Brainstorm together resources you might seek (people, groups, books, websites, organizations.) What one move will you make toward a marriage-friendly connection?

Darling Sylvia,

Grace notes are musical ornaments. I was introduced to bagpipe grace notes during the fall of 1970 by Charlie Russell, lead piper in Saint Paul’s Irish Pipe Band.  He taught me how to use my right pinky to flit across the bottom hole of my chanter, adding  grace notes to Scotland the Brave. The presence of grace notes elevates the pipe’s playing above the ordinary. In our 54 years of marriage, I know that it is the grace notes (little things, actions, and habits) that take our love above the treble clef.

Grace notes, intentionally made to honor you, me, and our we, make all the difference. We have learned to name and honor the intentional grace notes that nourish us. My grace notes to you include not being afraid to tell you I love you. I learned to say I am wrong (out loud) and that I am truly sorry that I hurt you. I gladly apply Aspercreme to your beautiful body before you go to sleep.  The last words I say to you at night are, “I love you, and I am the luckiest man in the world.” I am so glad we met at Alma College. I make gestures to tell you that you count.  I pick up my clothes–and put them into the washer. I take the garbage out on Sunday night. I open car doors, set a pretty table (flowers, wine glasses, and scented candles), and hold you in my arms when you are missing your dad or mom. I try desperately to be thoughtful because I honor and cherish the person you are.

Your grace notes for me include putting my pills together and reminding me to take them. You remind me when the remote check of my pacemaker is due. You take me on Harbor Freight dates and buy drill presses and tool boxes. You lay out clothes for me to wear so that I will look hot for an old guy.  You cut my hair and trim my mustache.  You let me not be strong. I can cry and not be embarrassed. You laugh at my jokes and buy me beer even though the taste of it disgusts you. You keep the books and do the taxes. You remind me when I am over the speed limit where the police in Waleska hide.

We both play grace notes to our we. They include holding hands in church and doing our Upper Room together after breakfast, folding and putting away laundry, and sitting side by side on our love seat at the Waleska Farmers’ Market. We shop together at Aldi for cheap wine. We fast together before early morning blood draws. We offer extra ears at way too many joint medical appointments.  We do Weight Watchers together.  We make sure we get our two-night-away adventures every three months and celebrate them on the refrigerator Growth Plan. I am so glad we found each other.

Love, Your Lover Bert

What are the grace notes in your home? How do you and your mate honor each other and grow your joint we?

Darling Sylvia,

Returning home from our Marriage Getaway at Hilton Head, I am full of feelings; I feel… I feel confident that in high tides and in the inevitable low tides, I will be all right as long as you are by my side.

When I am with you, I feel alive. Your presence by my side expands my universe. You rock my world. You let me share your viewpoint. When you share what you see, I become aware of the beauty around me, the daffodils in the ditch, the golden jasmine in the forest canopy and the red haze of the maples in the swamp.

Your presence in my life fills my senses like the sweet fragrance of Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow. Whenever I see your smiling face, my world becomes a brighter and warmer place. You light up my world.

When you lay your head on my shoulder and I look down into the depths of your eyes, I feel at peace. When you reach out and touch my face, my skin tingles. When you pet my hair, my pacemaker skips a beat.

As we sleep. the heat of your back against mine calms my very busy mind. You warm my soul. You bring love into my life. You are my lover and my best friend.

Happy Valentine’s Day

Your Lover Bert

What thoughts will you share with your partner today?

Where do you have highs in low places?