Last week marked thirty-three years of marriage for my husband and me. As I’ve mentioned before, it’s a small miracle that we have made it this far. Neither he nor I have quiet, laidback personalities, neither of us like to give in, and mostly we rarely like to apologize. What could go wrong? Yet here we are thirty-three years later, and apparently we both intend to stick it out for the long run. Our nest is now completely empty, parenting decisions are mostly over, division of labor has been negotiated in a kind of reasonable manner, and truly, there isn’t that much to argue over.

I still hate the tv on all the time and he hates that I complain about it all the time. I read a book a week, he reads a book a year. He worries about money, and I mostly don’t. It annoys each of us that the other feels that way. We can agree on a few favorite tv shows. I love to travel and he loves to take pictures of our travels, so that works out. We both like our coffee black and we both love our children more than mere words could express.

We are still figuring out how to be married. Maybe we will always be working on it. Married life is easier without the stress of young children, yet that hasn’t stopped either of us from worrying about our kids and talking about what we think they should do in their adult lives. We both love our careers and do support each other in those endeavors, even when we don’t always agree with the decisions the other makes.

Love and Basketball (and Coffee)

Many people talk about the concept of love languages. How does your partner like to receive love from you and vice versa? It’s an interesting concept. My husband and I have talked about it, but it doesn’t always hit home. It is awfully nice when your partner does something for you that is simple, not asked for, and shows that they really get you. Whenever possible, my husband makes me a very strong, black, French press coffee. He delivers it to me in bed, or the home office, or as I get ready in the morning. It’s not that hard for him and yet it means the world to me.

Is coffee love? Coffee is life, people and yes, it is love as well. It’s thoughtful and it shows that my husband understands what gives me a small dose of pleasure in the morning. I’m not one for expensive gifts, but a fresh cup of coffee steals my heart every time. What do I do for my husband that’s similar to coffee delivery? I watch every single stinking Chicago Bulls game. Every single one. I don’t even complain. In fact, I often yell “Siracha”. (You won’t even get that unless you watch the Bulls games with the local announcers.)

Maybe my husband and I made marriage too complicated during our first thirty years. Maybe we would have fought a bit less if he had just made me coffee and I had just watched the Bulls games. Or maybe the fighting was all part of getting us to this very moment. Who knows? For now, I’ll just be grateful for home brewed coffee delivered directly to me on most mornings.

Love,

Lisa Kaplin Psy. D. PCC