Goodbye --Ball and Chain

Since Friday, Wifey and I have engaged in a series of intense talks. Our wedding anniversary was Saturday, and it seemed an appropriate time. We've been married 22 years.

We both pored our hearts out about what's been bad and good over the past more than 2 decades. We know each other very well. We know what we want out of a marriage and what we don't.

A big thing for her is the ball and chain joke --she's always hated it. I hereby pledge to stop.

There's nothing funny about this blog entry, but it's crucial.

Two people who met in 1983 and dated, and then moved in, and then got married, have realized what they've built together. They also realize how much they've hurt each other.

We've looked around in horror at many marriage we see. Often those marriages exist out of inertia, or the fear of divorce. We won't go that route. Life's too short; too precious to stay in a prison where one holds the key to freedom.

Rather, we've re pledged our love. To all of my friends --you won't hear me venting my frustrations about Wifey any more. If you do, please remind me of this blog entry. Wifey's going to hear from me first hand. It's going to make for a rough ride.

There will be tears where there were held tongues. There will be fights where there was avoidance. There will be passion where there was apathy.

Friends of Wifey --same thing. Hopefully she'll keep our marriage between us. Running to the phone or computer to let off steam about my latest slight (real or imagined) is a hard habit to break. I'm ready to listen directly.

Wifey has shown me this weekend that she really does love me, dearly. More than I knew. More than I thought was left after all of these years.

Ds 1 and 2 idolize me. Truth is --I'm the best father I know --but I'm far from perfect. This weekend, I tearfully begged of them to take me off of the pedestal. I screw up things. I hurt people. Sometimes I hurt those closest to me. All people do.

They're nearly grown. They'll meet their life partners someday, and they need to understand that men are highly imperfect. And, the unconditional love of a father must be replaced by the conditional love of a lover and hopefully husband.

When I was a young man, and my friends and I spoke of marriage --we really had it all wrong. We put all the emphasis on "finding the right woman." It was as if once the vetting was done, the marriage would take care of itself --like choosing the best carnival ride, and just enjoying the bumps and dips.

The opposite is more true. As Jack Lemmon famously said, in character on Biscayne Bay in "Some Like it Hot:" "Nobody's perfect." We have to work, and work, and work on our relationships. If we don't they stagnate into toxic things.

Anyway --it's been a heart wrenching weekend around here. I firmly believe what doesn't kill us makes us stronger.

As for Wifey: I love you. I'm in love with you. I want to grow old with you. I want to hold hands at our daughters' graduations and weddings. Should our blessings continue, and we have grandchildren together --I want to share them with our girls and each other. I want to be the coolest granparents ever. (I've already told D1 she can drop her baby off with us, go on vacation with her husband, and come back before the teenage years...).

I'm sorry from the deepest reaches of my heart and soul for the hurt I've caused you. I've always striven to be the husband my father was --I will continue to strive for our love.

Our roles have changed. We're diminishing as parents. We find ourselves nearly back where we started. We can choose to get off of the ship, and start separate journeys. I'm signing up for the duration --forever.

Here's to a 2009 of new beginnings. Goodbye --ball and chain. Hello, hopefully, to a new, real wife, in every sense of the word, and a real man for a husband.

Happy 22nd anniversary, Wifey. I'm telling the world how I love you.