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.
