One of my costume students asked if I had a band aid. I directed her to the shelf where a first aid kit has been waiting for the last three years to rescue someone. We are after all surrounded by pins, scissors, needles, and other implements of sharpness.
I asked if she was okay.
"I just don't want to bleed on the skirt."
I went shopping this week for a few special items for the twins' birthday. While wandering through the aisles I noticed a fire extinguisher. Flame is one of my fears, for reasons I cannot justify, so I put it in the cart. The previous owners left one in the stairwell when we bought our house, but do they still work after twenty years? It was worth fifteen bucks for my peace of mind.
Our mechanic has kept the cars running long past what might be reasonable, and both John and I have his number at the ready. If there is a grinding sound, or a window that refuses to go up we know whom to call.
Repairs are an inevitable course of action, whether it is broken skin, or an exploding pan on the stove, or a sluggish alternator. It does not mean that anyone is a failure, or incompetent. Things break, and we fix them.
Having a strategy for a breach in your relationships isn't pessimistic. It is as proactive as buying bandages, and an extinguisher. John and Julie Gottman talk about
repair attempts as indicators of a robust marriage. They encourage people to have such plans in place, and even to practice them.
