One talk, different marriages

Recently I gave a talk called "The Secrets of Happily Married Couples" to an audience of about ten couples at a small, but luxurious, Pocono resort known as The Lodge at Woodloch. As is typically the case in these spa lectures, the talks tend to be intimate and can get very in depth. All but three of the couples had children who were between the ages of five and seventeen. One of the other couples, still in their 20s, had been married for two years; two other couples, I would guess, had been married about thirty years.

It became clear to me, as the group chimed in with questions and began to describe their own experiences, that I couldn't lump together "marriage" in a way that would mean the same thing for everyone in my audience. To the young childless couple marriage may represent a world of boundless possibilities, mutual giving, satisfying long walks and quite moments of reflection. To the family with school age children, marriage means dealing with heavy work loads outside the home compounded by the strains of rearing kids. They may be working through compromises on everything from whether the children should be permitted to sleep over at a friend's home, to whether they should be allowed to quit piano lessons. The couples with adult children seemed to take all this in, and hardly seemed ruffled by the struggles of their younger attendees.

Although a small sample, I was impressed with how this group represented three phases of marriage, and highlighting the unique challenges that face a marriage with children in the home. The take home message from watching these couples is that many marriages (I would venture to say almost EVERY marriage) begin in a blissful phase, and then undergo stages of extreme duress. But at the tail end of this experience are those calmer, long-married couples who have managed to raise a family and push though the tough times, and to come out feeling great not only about the outcome, but about the fact that they got there together!

Remember, the success of the long-married couples wasn't due to good luck, and wasn't because their marriage was any less troubled than average, it's that they stuck it out and learned from each other (and demonstrated to their children) how to have a great marriage.

The gift of Zucchini

The gardens are green and prolific. One of the things I enjoy most about this time of the year is how my raspberry bushes, Zucchini plants and bean vines begin to produce more that my family or I can eat. That means it’s time to share with my neighbors.

I’ll be truthful, I’m not the world’s best at giving gifts. I mean to. I think, “I really ought to get a gift for my co-workers for their showers, or for my mailman for his birthday.” I do generally remember my wife, and, truth be told, I rely on my wife to get most (read: all) of the gifts for my children. But, no, when it comes to packing things into neat little boxes and slapping paper and a ribbon around them, I’m just downright rotten.

But my vegetable garden permits me to connect with my friends and community in ways that make gift giving a thing of ease. I bubble over with enthusiasm when I find a giant zucchini (where had it been hiding yesterday when I picked the other two?!) and ask myself which of my neighbors gets it. I like passing a few cucumbers over the fence to my neighbor. In just a few weeks, I’m sure that I’ll be bringing tomatoes door-to-door.

In my newest book, "The Secrets of Happy Families," I write that one of the fundamental factors contributing to a happy and healthy family is developing a close sense of community with your neighbors, especially if you live a distance from your family of origin. Because Susan and I are far enough away from our parents and siblings, we try to include those around us in our circle of “surrogate family.” And sharing the fruits of my garden is one way of expressing my appreciation to those neighbors who unknowingly volunteered for their roles in our lives. Maybe I’ll tie a ribbon on a zucchini the next time I give one away…