One Thing My Wife Learned in our 42nd Year of Marriage

This is Joyce, Ken's wife, sharing what I learned in our 42nd year of marriage. While these are my thoughts, Ken helped transcribe them as I'm not a writer myself.

Knowing Ken, he might expect me to say I've learned how awesome it is to be married to him. But no, that's not it (though he is pretty awesome).

Instead, my realization is this: I've learned the beauty of balancing closeness and independence in marriage.

That’s what we have, a nice blend of togetherness and individuality. And it hasn’t come easily. The balance didn’t just appear one day in our marriage. Because with too much independence, I start wondering if he cares. And with too much togetherness, he starts to get on my nerves (and me, his). So, we’ve had to navigate this equilibrium and talk about it and check in with each other and recalibrate.

For example, several years ago, Ken started to feel drawn to the mountains. He bought a campervan and began spending long weekends with our dog, Mumford. Initially I felt left out and lonely down here in our little old house. So, we had to talk about it and share our aspirations and insecurities. I had to discover my own activities that I enjoyed while he was away. It wasn’t easy to work this out—and we had some tense moments discussing it. But we kept talking and kept communicating and kept adjusting—over several years—to arrive at a good balance of new interests.

Another example is my role in homeschooling our grandkids. It's become a significant part of my life, and I love it! And, while Ken loves them too, he’s not quite as enthused as I am. Heck, I’d have them move in with us if their parents wouldn’t put out a restraining order on me. Haha. (Well, actually I just put that ‘haha’ in there just so I don’t appear too out there.) So, in this aspect of my life, I need to ensure that Ken doesn’t feel pushed out or excluded or like a sore thumb. I need to temper my Oma-love with my husband-love. The best thing I can do for my grandkids is love their Opa.

This freedom and celebration of individuality is a 42^nd year phenomenon and we both love it. Ken gets his mountain time, his Mumford time, and his writing time. I get my grandkids time, my grandkids time, and my grandkids time. Oh, and my thrift shopping time and my friends time.

But we still do a lot together. We play tons of pickleball together (and as long as he doesn’t compliment everyone else on the court more than he compliments me, we’re okay). We enjoy our favorite Italian, Mexican, or, if I’m feeling particularly gracious, Sushi together once a week. We connect every night over watching pickleball on YouTube, then Modern Family, then Jimmy Fallon, and end the night with Suits. (A good Donna-fix is a great way to end the day)

42 years is a long time to be together. It’s a long time to make sure you grow together and not apart. And some couples manage this by spending more and more time together. God bless them—that works for them.

But that’s not us; that’s not what we want. I think if Ken hung out with me like I see some men do with their wives, I might…well, let’s just leave that blank in case I need to do something one day. I don’t want there to be a paper trail.

Ken and I—we need alone time. We need time to explore our own interests. We feel like we deserve that after 42 years.

That’s what I love about us.

That’s what I’ve learned this year.

And Ken, thanks for letting me be me. And thanks for letting us be us. I love it.