Love is the Drug

The Globe had a short piece, just a graphic with a bit of text really, on what makes a good marriage entitled Advice from 617 years of marriage, Trust, love, and dancing

What makes a good marriage? Since June is the big wedding month, I asked some of my friends who have been married a long time — 617 years, if you add them all together — for their smartest piece of marriage advice.

Never wear each other’s underwear. (married 19 years)

Never sign up for ballroom dancing. (married 26 years)

Notice when she gets her hair cut. (married 49 years)

Most of the quotes were glib, smile-and-knowingly-nod-your-head, throw away lines but there were a coupla bits with real wisdom too.

You can’t change your partner and you can’t change yourself but you will change. Don’t expect to stay married to the same person; all marriages are a series of marriages. (married 31 years)

Do not expect your spouse, or any one person, to be all things to you. (married 32 years)

This brings me back to my question of the other day — do we really change over time or do we just evolve and/or devolve into who we are at core?

I knew a man from Utah. He wasn’t a Mormon but, of course, he was surrounded. While in grad school he met and fell in love with a woman, a lapsed Mormon, who he felt he could build a forever and ever life with. Tom had been married before — this time would be different. They’d talked of long term hopes, dreams and goals. This wasn’t a giddy, shortsighted love affair — they wanted the same things out of this life.

When they had children, they decided that Dina would be a stay at home mom. While Tom was chasing his way up the corporate ladder, Dina stayed home. She re-embraced the religion in which she’d grown up, became politically conservative, donned the magic underwear and would no longer so much as share a glass of wine over dinner (or a cup of coffee over brekkie!) with her mate.

They now had precious little in common apart from their two sons. Even there though, the boys were raised to be observant, mission undertaking young men. Tom was an alien in his own house. He began feeling like nothing more than the family’s cash cow, their bank.

After the boys went off to college, Tom left Dina.

Clearly she’d become someone with whom he’d nothing in common. Had she changed? Was she a different person? Was he?

Yes, no and no but maybe his basic needs had shifted too. He really thought that he'd made a great, smart match. I imagine Dina had felt that way too. I wonder if there’s a relationship equivalent to card counting at the Blackjack table?

Big hairy-ass events — kids, cancer, heart attacks, Nf2, death of a loved one — can certainly be the catalysts for giant shifts in who we are (gee, DUH).

How is that The Amazing Bob and I’s union has survived and thrived lo these 28 years. Why are Jen and Oni such a strong, solid, fun going concern, 18 years in, after all they’ve faced? Eh, just lucky I suppose. Maybe more though, we're wacky in similar and complementary ways.

That and we all know how to employ the big magic Yes Dear.
Love is the Drug—Roxy Music