Marriage Moats-Dance with Me

Published: Tue, 10/25/11

Marriage Moats

Caring for Marriage

(To hear Lori read the story click)here

These dancers make it look easy. They are even smiling. This is a performance, a chance to show their stuff without the tedious effort inherent in a rehearsal. They both know the steps cold, and they are having fun.

I wish I could hear the clicking steps of their shoes. It is a sound that makes you forget the pile of bills on the counter and the check engine light that so annoyingly nags you to take the car in. For a moment in time, there is only the dancing.

At first glance, you might think there are only two people on stage. But if you look in the corners you will notice the shadows of more. We do not know their names.

Marriage is a dance. There is a lot of behind the scenes practicing to learn the routines, like who handles social invitations, who navigates on long trips. There are always mistakes to go over and try to smooth out. Sometimes music is playing in the background, to help you stay in time, and other times it is too faint to hear.

The other day John and I were meeting with someone and John was a tad late. I was not worried. I have learned that he often tries to get one more thing done before he rushes out the door. The person we were meeting with offered me water.

"Cold or room temperature?"

"Cold." I said.

"Will John want some too?" he offered.

"Yes. He will want it room temp."

I felt pleasure in knowing what John would want. It is something that comes after years of shared steps, and numberless mistakes.

One of the mistakes I remember was when our car suddenly began to choke out gasping noises while we were locked in heavy traffic on the Chesapeake Bay Bridge. John was driving and I was in charge of feeding and refereeing small children. I abandoned my position to pelt John with questions.

"What is wrong? Why is the car making that sound? Are we ok? Can you fix it? Will we crash?"

They seemed like crucial questions to me, ones that would prepare me for an untimely death.

But John was using every available brain cell to figure out how to safely get us to the other side of the bridge, given the circumstances and lack of a shoulder to pull off on. He had none to spare for verbal reassurance. So I asked them more loudly.

If those conditions were to repeat themselves, I would behave differently. I would focus on calming the kids, so that he could concentrate on the car. If you happened to be in the car too you might think we had the dance down pretty well. But that is only after a lot of frustrating rehearsals.

I like dancing with John these days. Not only that, I like knowing that there are others on stage with us. They are inconspicuous enough, and I do not know their names, but they help me when I forget the steps.

Photo by Joy Feerrar

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