Forty years is almost half a century and it’s difficult to remember what brought us together then
As told to Miriam Klein Adelman
It’s just the two of us now. We can have the leisurely, candlelit dinners we always dreamed about. We can open a box of Belgian chocolates and no small pajama-clad feet will scurry around the corner to see what we’re up to, no sticky hands will reach for the box. We can take long walks without paying a babysitter a dime. The kids are out of the house and it’s back to just hubby and me.
I can’t imagine a scarier scenario.
All those years, it was the children in between us, and now it’s just — air. We sit at the table. There are no bawling babies, no squabbling children. Simply quiet. What is there to talk about after 40 years of shouting just to be heard over the din?
At this juncture in our lives, we need to recreate our relationship. Become that cutesy young couple we once were. But perhaps we never were that cutesy young couple. Maybe we were two youngsters who barely knew each other but thought we knew everything about each other. We married, and before we had the opportunity to develop a relationship, boom, there we were with a kid. Then two kids, three kids, and in five years there were four babies.
When would we have had a chance to get to know each other? Certainly not between the 2 and 5 a.m. feedings. Nor during the day, when my time was consumed with squalling babies and runny noses, his with overdue bills. We never once sustained a complete conversation not centered upon the children, or punctuated by them.
Create a free account to keep reading.
