Tell Me – Is This Fair?

Those of you who are married can probably relate to this. I spent a long time looking for my husband. I didn’t spend as long as some, but I still feel like I put up a good search.

And I didn’t enter into marriage lightly. We asked each other lots of questions and made an educated decision. Is this in fact the person I want to spend the rest of forever with? Luckily for our relationship, we both answered yes. So we got married.

I got to pick this person. And then I got to take him home. He would be mine forever. This wonderful man whom I love so dearly and chose so carefully.

Now, not quite five years later, he leaves early in the morning to go to work all day while I stay home with our two children and work all day. And we don’t get to see each other.

And so I ask you: Who thought up this system? You chose this person – presumably with much thought and care. You pledge to stay together forever. And then for the next thirty-odd years you only get to see them on nights and weekends.

Is it just me or did someone make a serious mistake somewhere?

I know a few couples who have been together those thirty-odd years. Some of them seem anxious to begin seeing more of each other again. But some (and I find this extremely sad) wonder what they’re going to do with all that time together.

What happens in those years of working and parenting that takes a newlywed couple so much in love they can’t imagine nine whole hours apart and turns them into a retired couple who wonder how they’re going to manage nine whole hours together? I watch Alexander go off to work in the morning, sad to see him go – especially on Mondays. And I can’t help but wonder if I’ll ever wish I could see him a little less often. I hope I won’t.

I hope that after the years of working and parenting finally throw us back together, that we’ll welcome the reunion. I hope that we’ll remember all the reasons why, so long ago, we picked each other. And I hope that hoping (and working each day toward it) will make it happen.


So mark your calendar, Alexander. Cause thirty years (or so) from now you’ve got yourself a date.