Love and Marriage

What is love? This is a topic that’s long been explored in poetry, music, art, religious sermon even - there are many places you could look for definitions, creative responses to the subject matter or even research papers on the subject.

Well of course there are many different forms of love: from the lusty, magnetic attraction of two people forming a relationship to the love for a family member, friend or even a pet. Perhaps ‘love’ also incorporates feelings towards our possessions or pastimes- when you say you love a new dress or you love the sport or hobby that you have taken up? One small word that can mean so many things - shades of meaning, perhaps different grades of love? 

But let’s not overthink it. We all recognise the feeling of caring deeply about a person, a place, or an object but we all need to feel that we too are loved. That I think is the crux of what it is to be human - for to be loved is to be accepted and validated and to know that you are supported through the twists and turns of life.

Now sometimes there are grand gestures of love. Gifts given and sometimes sacrifices made to put the one you love first, even if you are worse off for having done so. Thinking about it though, I have come to believe that it is not the grand overstated gestures that really matter - it’s the little, everyday, often seemingly unnoticed measures that make us feel loved. It can be a shared glance of understanding, a touch of reassurance, a message on the way home from work to check if anything is needed. It can be when someone drops everything to listen, offer advice or a simple hug, even though they had a lot to do at that time but they knew you needed support right there and then. The love between two people can often lead to marriage, when those two people have found the courage to declare to the world that they have found happiness in each other and that they want to be together for the rest of their lives. A truly big commitment. 

There’s much publicity about who has rights to marry or even spend time with each other, depending on what country you happen to reside in. I’m guessing anyone reading this may have their own very clear ideas about their response to the question of whether marriage should be heterosexual or should be open to any couples wishing to make that commitment to each other. For my part, when you can see the love two people have for each other so obviously displayed and how they support each other, day in day out, then who has a right to deny them from making their commitment to each other in the formal expression of marriage, whoever they may be? For love knows no boundaries and sees no obstacles of race, gender, age or class. 

I am in a fortunate position of having been married for a long time, 28 years if you want the statistics. To quote a certain rock anthem, ‘it’s been no bed of roses.’ Well, not if you’re expecting a life of purely rose petals but that only happens in the movies doesn’t it? Roses come with thorns, that’s part of the package and so it is with marriage. There are times when you need space from each other and you can hurt each other with words or deeds that prick like a thorn. But that’s where the love truly shows it’s worth for that’s where forgiveness and compassion bloom.

I read somewhere that marriage is about being an effective tag team so that each partner can take a turn in the ring showing their strength when the other needs time outside the ropes, gathering the energy they need to struggle with their current demon. Certainly the love you have for each other finds new and sometimes surprising depths when life throws obstacles or tragedy your way.

I’ve also seen at close hand how the love in a long marriage has sustained when the ‘in sickness’ part of the marriage vows came into focus, when my Mum sacrificed so much to look after my Dad through his last difficult years and the courage she showed during his last days, being there for him to hold his hand and reassure as he passed. So love it seems, gives you strength, courage and a will to carry on through the grief to a place where you can reminisce about all the times you shared together through your marriage.

I did not intend when I started writing this to look at the end of a marriage but more at the start, for I was inspired to write this after having the privilege of being part of a wedding of two dear friends. The day was made all the more special by seeing their joy and love for each other and how evident their love for family and friends was.
Standing at the starting line of a marriage they, like all couples, have an eagerness and excitement to participate. They are in those heady early days of being in love and may that long continue. Marriage is not a sprint it is a long distance race and, as my Dad would say about his athletics, save some energy for later in the race and keep your stamina. It is also a team event and so you have to be prepared to pick each other up when you fall and keep going, whether that is a walk, jog or a sudden sprint. With that said, and a picture in my mind of my Dad at a track event with his stopwatch in hand, I wish happiness and unending love to any couple beginning their married life together and say ‘on your marks, get set, go!’

Coffee and Cake - Code for Therapy!

I’m completing those medical type questionnaires and I think they’re missing something. You know the ones where they try to check out your addictions and give a health baseline? My answers portray a somewhat bland, some might suggest boring response:

Have you ever smoked? – No

Do you / have you ever taken drugs? - Prescription only, a morphine drip after an emergency C-Section for my first child and a couple of puffs of gas and air having my second before I decided that I didn’t like the woozy feeling and gave up on that!

How much alcohol do you drink? – Most weeks none; it’s not a usual thing in our house. Lately, if meeting up with friends, a few glasses to get into the spirit of that Friday frolic fever. You know how everyone seems to manage their mundane and stressful working week by putting Friday up on a pedestal all week so that we can glam ourselves up, park our working lives and feel silly for a few carefree hours? Close friends might testify that’s it been more than a few glasses on some occasions, but no-one puts the whole truth on these forms do they?

Do you exercise? – Well, I walk the dog when no-one else in the family will and I join in dance routines at my weekly drama group. If the dishwasher is loaded and the TV programmes haven’t caused me to nod off and the stars of passion are neatly aligned, I might have an extra bit of bedroom exercise from time to time.

What’s missing from my questionnaire though is the thing that I am now having to admit to myself is my addiction: coffee and cake. Along with a proliferation of coffee shops over the last few years, comes the realisation that they’re tapping into something. It’s not that everyone has just suddenly developed an unquenchable thirst for coffee – though it is in itself addictive. It’s more to do with the fact that we’re looking for a little slot of relaxation and, when you find yourself a friendly local coffee spot, a smiling barista with a few minutes to listen to you and make you feel important. This, I’ve come to realise, is my therapy.

Half an hour on a sofa in a coffee shop with a sweet treat and a latte and I’m ready to carry on with my day. Whether I’ve sat alone or to catch up with friends, used the chance to check work emails or to chat with my Mum or pop in for a moment away from the kids to actually talk to my husband (though often we’ll sit alongside each other checking out the screens on our phones as we sip coffee) – it’s all a way to recharge batteries and pretend for a moment or two that life has been put on hold. An equivalent slot on a sofa with a therapist would be infinitely more expensive and possibly no better for me.

My coffee time is my ‘me time’ and has become a necessary part of my week – my mindfulness programme. I can make coffee at home and have been known to create perfectly adequate bakes but it isn’t about that, is it? Taking time out, in a little sanctuary of calm, is to step away from the plate spinning that encapsulates my waking hours; a plate for managing an increasingly stressful job, a plate for coordinating kids’ activities, a plate for caring for pets that we were persuaded into buying and now have most responsibility for looking after, a plate for keeping the home running, a plate for being there for friends and family. How many plates is that now? I’m a walking circus act!

This year, I have to admit that my need for ‘coffee therapy’ has certainly increased – possibly to worrying levels. I’ve been joking with friends that I am having a midlife crisis but I think it has just been a significant year. One kid has finished university, the other managed to get through GCSEs despite many challenges. We’ve had 5 months of disruption as we have refurbished the house in an effort to future-proof it, for we see little hope of our kids being able to fly the nest any time soon. My job has taken a new direction too, with more responsibility, more deadlines, more of everything except money and recognition – such seems the accepted norm in the austerity driven work place of the current day. Against this backdrop, I’m planning celebrations to mark a significant birthday – I intend to be fabulous and fifty, at least for the celebrations, it’s most likely to be downhill after that!

Why one birthday year should be more significant than another is arbitrary. For many, each candle on the cake is just another passing year – one no more meaningful than the next. Many have developed this habit of celebrating the ‘decade birthdays’ more than others and certainly, for the last few years I’ve not particularly gone overboard on the celebrations. Six years back I spent a memorable birthday night sat alongside my Dad’s hospital bed, following the difficult decision to withdraw medication and wait for him to pass. The fighter that he was meant that he struggled on way past expectations and died 8 days later. So I guess my birthday has been inextricably linked with those events since.

Determined – that was the word he used to describe me in his speech on our wedding day. Determined to pursue a course of action whether he was proved right or wrong in the wisdom of my choices. Well, despite many stumbling blocks along the way, he was proved right that I’ve been determined enough to stick at my marriage and persevere as a parent – something that comes with no prior qualification or manual.

With no let up on the horizon – mortgage payments to continue for a fair few years, workloads staying heavy, it’s fair to assume that I’m going to require coffee therapy for a long time to come. Now, pass me my latte.

Does coffee therapy work for you? How do you make time for yourself among your daily responsibilities?