NZ, or Cheaper than Divorce

Joan Didion wrote The Year of Magical Thinking, a memoir about the year after her husband and long-time companion died.  In it, she talks about the good times and the rough times she and her husband had.  Once when they were having a difficult time and nearly broke, they went to Hawaii.  Why?

"It was cheaper than a divorce."

Jack and I face a similar situation in our marriage, and are meeting our challenge with similar relish.  This weekend, Jack booked four tickets to New Zealand for our winter vacation.  The Boy wants to go to Peter Jackson's The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings.  (The Boy is wildly excited that The Hobbit: The Battle of the Five Armies will be released days before our trip.  He plans to see the movie in NZ.  He is dancing/stomping around the house at the thought.)

Jack and I are clipping through books on marriage repair.  One book, His Needs, Her Needs, was recommended by several friends.  The Five Love Languages is another we have read.  Jack, to his credit, is dutifully providing me with "acts of service" to help me feel loved (i.e., making dinner, folding the laundry without being asked, etc.)

In this vein, we went for a bike ride yesterday and contributed to the "Recreational Companionship" bucket from His Needs, Her Needs.  The Big E is in Japan for a week, so Jack, the Boy and I rode from the University District to Woodinville where we had lunch at the Red Hook Brewery.  (Jack worked the past two weekends, and next week The Boy is in a soccer tournament.  In a given month, this was really the only day we could have made the trip.)  Jack and I had lunch there in 1997 when we were in the Pacific Northwest on a bicycle tour vacation.  I had been dreaming about riding there since we moved to Seattle, but there had never been a good time.  That, and The Big E is not an avid cyclist like the other three.  (The Boy is not an avid traveler, so he has times of being the odd man out.)

I didn't realize how far the Red Hook Brewery was -- eighteen miles from our house, or thirty-six miles round trip.  With breaks, it was about a five hour trip.

So, it was good.  We didn't talk much, but that is the nature of cycling, which is fine.  Jack shared a thought with me on the trip.  On many long cycling trips or even skiing, there is a plethora of middle aged men out exercising on their own.  If I am ever divorced, I will spend every winter weekend at Crystal Ski Resort.  The last time I was there, there was an 8:1 ratio of men to women on the mountain.  The Burke-Gilman Trail had a similar ratio.  There was one man maybe ten years older than me at the brewery, taking his new bike off his Audi station wagon.  As Jack was fixing my flat tire, Jack noticed this and shared his thought with me.  If she is going to start over, why not start over with me instead of with one of these other guys?

That is a reasonable question.  Why shouldn't we start over with each other?  I am inclined to say yes, but there will need to be some significant repair in the meantime.  After all, none of those men on the Burke-Gilman had lied to me for about a year on various topics.  By lie, I also mean lack of openness, honesty and transparency.  If I am the person who is supposed to know him best, why did he withhold significant information from me?  The answer to that still remains unclear.

And Jack wrestles with another problem.  Until this year, he has generally able to choose what he works on and when.  His new position has considerably more responsibility.  One thing he has been slow to accept is that in life many of us don't get to choose what we do.  We all don't have the freedom to do as we please.  Therein lies the primary basis for responsibility.  I struggle with whether or not to get a paying day job, but after losing a daughter years ago, I am still conflicted about motherhood and career.  Yes, I would prefer to have a day job, wear a suit and collect a paycheck.  Instead, I am spending the summer with my kids and taking then back and forth to camp.  Even people high in power don't have much choice.  Take Queen Elizabeth I.  As queen, she could do whatever she wanted.  Did she want the Spanish Armada to attack England?  No.  Could she sit back and watch?  Yes, but that would have been disastrous.  Instead, she called upon her navy to defend her country.

Dear Jack,

Sometimes we do things because we are called to do then, even when we'd rather be doing something else.

Lauren