Too busy to worry

Chautauqua

Since it’s our 26th anniversary, I’ve been trying to determine what made this marriage thing work. It may be we are too busy to worry about the small crap. Yeah, she still says at church, “Let’s go,” and then ends up in a 15-minute conversation with someone. I have an uncanny ability for my cough drop wrappers to end up on the floor.

My wife’s job remains extraordinarily busy. Moreover, her mother moved from one retirement facility to another, which is in a much smaller space, in March. This involved my wife, with help from her brother, sister-in-law,  and husband, to clear out the previous location. This was a real time suck, not just the cleaning out distributing stuff to other people if they wanted it. She also has additional fiscal responsibilities.

At church, I’m in the choir and occasionally read scripture or handle communion. She counts the money every four to six weeks, and there are always other things that come up. Weddings, funerals, medical visits, and one-off things fill the void.

Last year, my wife and I overbooked ourselves by getting not one, but two theater subscriptions: to Proctors and Capital Rep.. This coming season, we will only be doing the latter. Other things we’ve done in previous years, we have decided to forego because there’s no time. 

We’re also trying to keep in contact with our daughter, who is only 7,845 miles away. Yay, WhatsApp.

FBH

As I noted last year, one thing that has continued to work is the full-body hug, which we do once in the morning before she goes to work and once in the evening before she goes to bed. She always goes to bed before I do.

This picture was taken at Chautauqua in the summer of 2024. We were very ambitious and went to both Chautauqua and DC.  I’m waiting for the time when she retires; maybe we can actually relax. Or maybe not.

Anyway, she’s a great partner as we muddle through life. I love you, dear.

The value of the full-body hug

24th wedding anniversary

I am a proponent of the full-body hug.

Let me note that back at my previous church, which I left in 2000, I was known by a few as the Trinity Hugger. Which someone always liked to say was better than being the Trinity Mugger.

At my church, and also among my in-laws, there are people I like to hug and who like to be embraced. However, COVID – it’s always COVID – put the kibosh on that for a good while.

My wife was not a natural hugger, in my experience. Sometimes, she’d give me a side hug, which was better than nothing. Often, though, she d go to bed, and I wouldn’t even know until I saw the bedroom door closed – to keep out the cats, I should add.

At some point, she suggested, and I eagerly agreed, that we should hug twice a day, once in the morning and once in the evening. Not one of those obligatory ones either, when you do it while holding something, but a full-body hug, with hands now free of everything.

This has made me very happy.

Taking care

I don’t know precisely when FBH, as we call it, started. I’m fairly sure it was after my wife’s leg trauma last fall.    It wasn’t intentionally a quid pro quo, but I’ve noted that she’s better at taking care of my emotional needs after I unexpectedly had to take care of her physical needs.

As a result, I think we’re in a better place. We’re always punning each other, but historically, hers had often been groan-worthy to my ears. For whatever reason, her banter is sharper. This is situational humor, so I can’t recreate any specific examples, but it’s true.

This is our 24th wedding anniversary. There’s less than a 50/50 chance she’ll read this since she seldom reads my blog. Moreover, I’ve told her that I ALWAYS write about her on her birthday and about us on our anniversary. It used to bug me a little, but now I’m at, “Hey, it’s her choice.”

Happy anniversary, dear. We should get a newer picture.

Ramblin' with Roger
Social media & sharing icons powered by UltimatelySocial