Some Assembly Required

We have two adult unmarried daughters. I used to think good advice for picking a spouse/mate/BFF was to travel with him/her.  Whether a road trip or using other forms of transportation you could get a sense of spending that much time together and agreeing on destinations, dealing with inconveniences, both big and small, and sharing the joy of discovering new places, people, and things.

Now, with my husband, after my retirement and our move, life is like traveling together. While it’s not a different bed every night, this newfound time and proximity is unfamiliar territory. As newcomers to North Carolina, our social resources are largely each other.  We have great friends as neighbors, but there’s no job or long-established patterns and activities that call to us.

We have to find them.

It’s only now – more than seven months into retirement – that I’m reading the many screeds – and screed may just be the perfect word here – counseling and cautioning, no, warning, about the stresses of too much togetherness.  These articles offer much advice about retirement and the importance of planning for yourself, not just yourselves, planning that is as crucial as all the financial worries that go into retiring.

As the Huffington Post reported, “some couples are not prepared for the realities of being around their spouse more often.”

Author and psychologist Robert Bornstein says, “The resulting stress can easily be avoided if people retire with a plan, retirement experts say. And foremost in that plan, set a schedule and make plans to do something ... anything.”

With my half-year of experience, I beg to differ with the good Dr. Bornstein.  I agree about plans and schedules and doing things separately and things both spouses enjoy.

But, I draw the line at “anything.”

Anything includes items that involve some assembly required.

The Waterloo in our marriage just might trace its source to Sweden:  IKEA and its pictogram-guided furniture kits. And, China, too, with its parts and pieces and scant guidance.

Since we moved into our new home last August, my husband and I have assembled more pieces of furniture than I want to remember. 

He is the brains (as he has long been in our union) and I, of sound back and growing strength (as I wrote about personal training last fall), am the brawn.

Okay, I'm a glass half-full kind of gal. I try to view these assembly projects as team building, you know like the companies that pay for off-site meetings, facilitators, and obstacle races. (Here's an idea:  Why pay for a Mud Run and t-shirts when you could give your employees cartons of furniture and personalized Allen wrenches? Maybe your office needs a new conference table.)

The team building is working. Team Dorfman is stronger and smarter about deciphering Swedish hieroglyphs.

  

But, the last "requiere de algún ensamblaje" project from China with instructions in Spanish was especially difficult. So, it got my writer’s mind thinking. Amongst all the packing materials, the Styrofoam shreds, and our umpteenth Allen wrench there must be a metaphor in there. 

Somewhere.

Could the teamwork we need – and the complementary skills – to successfully assemble a table be a metaphor for the work required to maintain a healthy marriage, especially into retirement?  We bring different strengths, viewpoints, and needs to the table, as it were, and sometimes it seems the parts just won’t fit together. And, while we cannot and should not be everything for each other, like our new tables and chairs, we can be a functioning unit.

But, just like putting together an IKEA table, it takes focus and effort.

That’s my metaphor and I’m sticking to it. I am, also, not engaging in another SAR project, at least for a few weeks. I’m looking forward to a vacation, even a honeymoon, from Allen wrenches.