'enry 'iggins had it a bit right, but he mellowed beyond his soliloquy about how a relationship with a woman condemned one to be "rearranged" like the furniture.
There have been four women in my life with whom I have had what I would call significant relationships, other than my mother of course. Two of them I married. Two, I wanted to. There was another I married that I wouldn't put in the same group as the four who each, I think, made some big differences in my life.
The first was my first serious relationship and was someone from a very different background. I learned a lot from her about a different culture that had been hidden to me, and about family.
The second bore my children, a seriously significant change in my life, and one, that despite the occasional doubts and worries, I have no regrets about. She was a good mother and a better wife than I deserved. (It is possible that each of these women was in some way better than I deserved.) I think what I learned from her I had to learn afterwards. Buried in my own incompleted angst, I pretty much tried to suppress the crap out of her and reflecting back she had to have more dignity and more endurance than anyone should have had to in order to stay as long as she did.
The third was an intense three year long-distance relationship with a woman who was seven years my senior. Very successful, articulate, full of energy. A lot of the time I wondered what she saw in me. I wanted desperately for her to say yes to a marriage date, and it was a constant point of tension and difficulty during our last year or so. I think I learned what it was like to have someone in my life who would stand up to me and not accept what I tried to do when I was less than my best with her. But she had her own idosyncracies (as do we all) and was not about to surrender to any relationship. She had taste and style and contributed that to me in the little time we had together.
Then came my abortive second marriage, too soon, too very much on the rebound. My only saving comment is that I was probably a much bigger disappointment to her than she was to me. The divorce was vicious and financially damaging, and took longer than the marriage to unravel. I did learn something, probably to the chagrin of the woman who has been in my life for the last twenty years--not to trust the appearances of a relationship. I was living in Professor Higgins' nightmare.
I seem to have saved the best for last. We have many things in common and some really pleasing differences. Her extroversion is a delightful anodyne to my reclusive introversion. I think she is the smartest woman I have ever been with. Not one degree but she may be better read than 99.9% of the population. We both seem to recognize that it would not have worked for us had we met early on. We both had a lot of growing to do as adults before we could be fit for each other. So the timing, for once, was right.
I have a small regret that we have not had the high romance that I remember from earlier relationships, but I have come to think that may not be a bad thing. Robert Johnson ("He," "She," "We") writes in one of his books about "over the oatmeal" love--that simple daily appreciation that we are here and have each other in our lives.
I do sometimes wish I had more of the vigor of youth. Even a reasonably healthy "not quite so old guy" isn't what he was at thirty-five or forty, and we didn't meet until I was forty-eight. I sometimes think she might feel cheated by that.
What we've learned together is how to manage a good married life. Our tastes are blessedly similar. We pretty much blew the mind of a contractor redoing our old kitchen when we zeroed in on two choices for our granite counter top in about fifteen minutes. He'd planned at least an hour. And even when there are differences, we've developed some quick and simple ways to check where we each are and quickly come to a workable agreement. I'd like to think that my process skills are the bigger part of that, but I think her adaptability and willingness to engage may contribute more.
We've built a good life, with more yet to come.
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