Sorry, Closed for Lunch

Ephraim and Chaya live in a Lakewood development marketed to over-fifties. They’ve been married 42 years and have three children. Before his retirement and their move to Lakewood, Ephraim worked as a computer programmer. Chaya was a preschool teacher. They have radically different opinions about how their retirement is going.

“It’s wonderful,” Ephraim says with a lilt in his voice. “I go to sleep late, and wake up late in the morning. After working so hard for so many years, I’m finally getting to breathe. I have a good group of friends. We learn Daf Yomi together, we talk politics, we invite each other for Shabbos meals. What’s not to like?”

“It was better when he was working,” Chaya admits. “He stays up late, he sleeps in late. He leaves messes around the house for me to clean up. What can I do?” she says with a sigh. “I guess I should just feel lucky he’s alive.”

As a therapist, Sarah Chana Radcliffe often sees this dynamic in action. “When women have had their individual space, they really can feel crowded when their husband is at home making demands, or making suggestions, or just being in her private space,” she explains. “He’s in her territory.”

Having a husband home 24-7 is a big change, and for many women it’s not an easy adjustment. “She has to get used to him doing what he wants,” Sarah Chana says. “He’s at home now. Some men are busy and are able to schedule themselves; other men may ‘relax’ a lot and may not see themselves as needing to help out now that they’re around. But a husband is not a child — the wife can’t ‘make’ him be more active, productive, health conscious, or anything else.”

“I love Menashe,” Dina tells me, “but I don’t need him around all the time. I miss when he was in the office and I had the whole house to myself.”

Chaya shares the same sentiment. “It’s good when my husband gets out of the house. That’s when I get the most done.”

So what can a woman do if her newly retired husband parks himself in what was previously her sacred space? “I think one solution could be for her to find her own space,” Sarah Chana suggests. “She might find that this is a good time to leave the house more often for shiurim, exercise classes, volunteering, or socializing.”

Together 24-7

While some couples struggle with needing space, others struggle with too much time together. If absence makes the heart grow fonder, retired couples are in for a rough ride ahead. It’s an uncomfortable question to face — even if you love your spouse, do you want to be together 24-7?

“Not every woman wants to spend time with her newly available husband,” Sarah Chana says. “Others are fine with it — finally having time to travel, visit the kids, take up hobbies or fitness classes together.”

For lots of retired couples, life doesn’t look like that. The husband may have undergone a huge change in his schedule and commitments, with lots of free time he never had before, but often it’s business as usual for the wife. In some cases, the man doesn’t quite know what to do with himself. All of a sudden, he’s just “there” while his wife is carrying on as before. But now he’s sitting in the kitchen listening to all her conversations that she’s having on the phone with her kids and friends; he’s making comments in the background during calls or afterward. She wants her privacy back! Sarah Chana believes that clear structure and boundaries can help with this kind of problem. “All together, all the time is not going to be a realistic formula for many. It’s certainly fine to be honest with one’s spouse. ‘Honey, I really like to speak to people privately  — would you mind just reading in the den after dinner when I get on the phone while I clean up the kitchen?’ Hopefully he won’t be insulted!”

Rivka, the therapist we spoke to, agrees. And, she adds, there’s no shame in not wanting to be together all the time; it’s actually healthy to vary between connecting and separating and connecting again. “It is unrealistic to expect to enjoy each other’s company 24-7,” she explains. “So much of the joy of marriage is connecting over your daily experiences. If you were literally there for every part of your spouse’s day, what fresh energy are you bringing into the relationship? It’s important that each spouse continues to have his or her own life so they can come together with renewal.”

As for the women petrified of making their husband lunch? “I think he can make his own lunch,” Sarah Chana says with a laugh. “If she really doesn’t want to take on this new task, she can discreetly be out of the house midday. If he’s hungry, he’ll find the fridge! Men sometimes see women as caretakers. They might think, She’s going to be there to take better care of me, but women also have a vision for their retirement and it doesn’t always include taking on extra responsibility for a perfectly healthy partner. Communication of expectations and wishes can help prevent disappointment, frustration, and resentment.”

Penina had a hard time getting used to Yanky’s expectations of a proper lunch, complete with long, leisurely conversation. “I’m not much a lunch eater and even less of a lunch cooker,” she admits. “If I’m doing errands, I’ll buy a salad. If I’m home I’ll heat up a bowl of leftover soup, worst case I’ll have some pretzels or a bowl of cereal. But Yanky was expecting freshly prepared food, a set table, relaxed conversation. All these years, he’d been looking forward to spending time together.

“I’m embarrassed to say this,” she says with a laugh, “but I really think one meal a day is enough time together. I don’t like cooking. But more importantly, I have a life. All those years when Yanky went off to Manhattan to work, I wasn’t hanging around waiting for him to retire. I went to the gym. I went to a weekly shiur with my friends. I volunteered for Bikur Cholim. I ran a busy house. These days I spend hours in the car driving to Lakewood who knows how many times a month, for siddur plays and Chumash seudos and helping out my daughters and daughters-in-law after birth. Am I really supposed to drop everything and spend my mornings cooking penne a la vodka or seared tuna for my newly retired husband who wants to ‘develop our relationship?’ ”

Yanky came prepared to those early lunches. He wanted to discuss an interesting article he’d read, or get Penina’s opinion on a new shul policy. She tried to relax into this new atmosphere, his new willingness to sit and just talk. But it was strange for her. Just a few months before, there was always this virtual clock ticking in the background of every conversation: in just a few minutes, he’d have to rush to minyan, or to a shiur, or get back to his desk, or to a meeting. The hours they spent together were precious and rare, something to look forward to and savor. This new reality was foreign and uncomfortable. She knew it should have been enjoyable, but it was just too much.

Clashing Dreams

Some couples live throughout their marriage with a degree of passive conflict bubbling just beneath the surface. For the most part, it works: They’re busy enough with outside commitments to avoid contentious topics and sidestep their disagreements without resolving them. But once the spouses hit the retirement years, the pattern of unresolved conflict can come back to bite them. They’re spending more time with each other, and with the kids out of the house, there are less distractions and “white noise.” They’re going to be forced to deal with each other, and unresolved issues are going to come to the surface.

Even a good marriage can be tested by retirement; a fragile marriage will almost certainly encounter difficulties. That’s why the time to work on a marriage is long before retirement, says Dr. Meir Wikler, a psychotherapist and family counselor with offices in Brooklyn and Lakewood, and the author of Ten Minutes a Day to a Better Marriage. “No couple agrees on everything. That’s a fantasy that doesn’t exist. But the difference between a good marriage and one that’s at risk is communication — when a couple is able discuss their disagreements effectively in a respectful way and resolve them.”

Unfortunately, Akiva and Tova never got that advice. Akiva is a spry 72-year-old. He recently retired from an executive position in the healthcare industry, after working hard for decades and working his way up to that corner office. At peak times, he’d start his workday at seven, and work until midnight. Now, he has the time, money, and freedom to do the things he always dreamed of. But there’s just one problem — his wife, Tova, isn’t interested.

“I have Crohn’s disease,” Tova explains. “There are so many things I can’t eat — from dairy to gluten to foods with fiber — you name it, I can’t eat it. And when you add kosher to that, traveling becomes a nightmare. I went on a trip to Europe with Akiva and I ended up eating some nuts out of desperation, even though I knew it would be bad for me. Sure enough, I was sick as a dog. Akiva says just bring your own food, but it’s really not that easy to travel with so much food in your suitcase.”

Although Akiva and Tova enjoy each other’s company, they have very different visions of what they want their retirement to look like. They’re not alone. One wife I spoke to wishes she could make aliyah, while her husband wants to stay in the American out-of-town community he helped build. Clashing goals and incompatible dreams can suck all the joy out of retirement, even if it’s something you’ve been working toward for decades.

“When Akiva was working, I felt like we were on the same page,” Tova tells me. “We both grew up in households where money was tight, and were looking to build a better life for our children. I’m immensely proud of how well Akiva’s done. But the life he envisions after retirement — seeing the world, doing a South African safari, maybe even visiting Japan…. I’m sorry — it doesn’t appeal to me at all. I’m just not a globe-trotter.”

Tova admits that Akiva always talked about traveling after he retired, but she didn’t take him seriously. “I guess I just thought he enjoyed fantasizing about it. I didn’t think he meant it. While me, I love being a grandmother. My grandkids are the cutest. They say the funniest things. I watch my grandson so my daughter-in-law can go to work, and doesn’t have to put him in daycare. What would my daughter-in-law do if I was traveling the world? The kids rely on me, and honestly, I enjoy it so much more. I’d take seeing my grandson’s face light up when he sees me over seeing the Great Wall of China any day.”

“Neither Akiva or Tova are really being very empathic about the feelings and the needs of the other spouse,” says Dr. Wikler. “Each spouse has a very legitimate need and legitimate feelings. They’re not crazy, and they’re not irrational. The problem is that they’re displaying a significant deficit in empathy — not really being able to understand where each other is comfortable and how each other feels. And that’s a recipe for an unresolved conflict.”

Dr. Wikler’s prescription: “If they would each be more empathic to each other’s needs and feelings, they would be able to achieve some kind of compromise. Neither one is going to get everything they want, neither one is going have it perfect, but they can each get more than they have now.”

He remembers an older couple he counseled: The wife complained that her husband was too rigid and inflexible and he said she criticized him too much. She was much more social than he was, so every Shabbos they went through the same conflict: After davening she wanted to go down to the kiddush and socialize, while he wanted to go straight home and have the seudah. She would go down by herself, and he would walk home alone, but both felt bitter and resentful about being abandoned by the other.

After they had worked on improving their communication under Dr. Wikler’s guidance, they worked out a compromise — he agreed to go to the kiddush once or twice a month. They were both tremendously happy with the result and the work we had done together.

“It might sound simple to us,” Dr. Wikler notes, “but it was a very hard struggle for them.”

Nowhere to Hide

But not every couple can find solutions. Sometimes there are truly difficult personality issues that even the best communication can’t fix.

Chani’s husband, Meir, a very driven and ambitious business owner, was basically forced into a retirement after a heart attack at age 73. He unwillingly and not very graciously gave over the business to his sons.

“We all knew this was going to happen eventually,” Chani says. “The boys had been working there for decades, watching their father in meetings and negotiations, handling big chunks of the business on their own. But this forced takeover was something different. It meant that Meir had to develop complete trust in them overnight — and Meir had never really learned how to trust anyone else fully.”

Chani regularly hears him on the phone, micromanaging his sons, berating them for doing things differently than he would have advised. “They’re adults — they’re actually grandparents already — and they’re doing a fine job, but Meir just can’t let go.”

Back when he was out of the house, Chani hadn’t realized just how domineering he could be. But now there was nowhere to hide. His orders and rebukes just kept coming.

“Chani, you’re sure that’s the right temperature for heating up soup? You know that the barley can get burned if the fire’s too high.”

“Why are you doing the linens today, Chani? That makes no sense. Our flight is tomorrow, wait until we get back.”

“Chani, when will the cleaners have my suits ready? I told you I need everything ready earlier this week, because of the sheva brachos, right?”

Chani knows her husband needed to retire for his health. The stress of his job was straining his heart. But when he spent all those hours in the office, he had other people to boss around. Now it’s all on her. “We don’t need the money, baruch Hashem, but lately I’ve been thinking how nice it would be to have a job out of the house,” she says with a sigh. “Imagine a nice, positive space where I could interact with other women. Even if I would have to take orders, it would still be better than this.”

A Little Respect

Perhaps the most uncomfortable reality around retirement — and the hardest for women to admit — is that it’s not uncommon for a woman to feel less respect for her husband when he’s home all day, instead of going out into the world and accomplishing.

“It’s been hard to watch my formerly successful husband just lounging around in his pajamas, looking at my new coffee machine longingly and hoping I’ll make him a cup,” Dina tells me. “I’m used to seeing him in a suit, carrying a briefcase, with a plan of what he’s going to be doing with his day. It bothers me to see him like this. He’s not the same go-getter I was married to all these years.”

This is not a problem exclusive to retirement, Sarah Chana points out. “Even when they’re young, and still working, if a man’s not productive enough, women have trouble with that,” she says. “Women are multitasking between the children and their professional careers, and sometimes studying for a degree at the same time. There’s always this challenge of respect.”

But while it might always lurk in the background, retirement can often push this unspoken tension center stage.

“Do I feel like my wife respects me?” Ephraim asks rhetorically. He laughs. “When we first got married, yes, but it got less and less over time. Now? I don’t know. You’d have to ask her.”

“I respect him,” Chaya says, “but I had more respect for him when he got up early and went to work. When he sleeps in till ten — I don’t want to see that.”

“This is a big challenge retired couples face,” Sarah Chana tells me. “If he’s doing something she respects — if he keeps up a steady chavrusa, if he’s studying Torah — then that helps. But if he’s just not working, if he’s lying around scrolling on his phone, and not using his time according to what she thinks is productive, she may lose respect for him.”

For Professor Yitzhak Klahr, Torah learning has given him purpose and structure in retirement. “I spent fifty years as a research engineer and thirty years teaching graduate students at night,” Professor Klahr tells me. Throughout that time, he always spent his lunchbreak learning Torah. “When I turned sixty-seven, I said to myself, ‘When am I going to sit and learn?’” He decided to retire to devote himself to learning full-time. A father of 11 children, he had watched his sons studying at Brisk and the Mir and he dreamed of achieving that high level of learning for himself as well.

At that time, he was living in Flatbush, and he went to Knesses Bais Avigdor (more popularly known as Rabbi Kahn’s shul) on Avenue J. It was there he learned about Agra D’Pirka — a program that offers Torah learning to men in 16 locations across the country (see sidebar for more.) “Agra D’Pirka has fantastic maggidei shiur,” Professor Klahr enthuses. “I was looking for a place to learn, and by Hashgachah pratis I found Rabbi Kahn’s shul. I spent ten years with him. I would go to a kollel in the morning before davening, and then I would go to Agra D’Pirka, and then in the afternoon it would get very empty, and I would stay there and learn all day.”

After ten years, Professor Klahr moved to Lakewood, where he still maintains four chavrusas and has two partners in Torah as well. “I learn every minute that I can,” he tells me. The influence on his retirement and his marriage has been amazing. He learns with his wife on Shabbos and that’s also brought them closer together.

When Professor Klahr was working he always dreamed of learning full-time, but what about someone like Menashe, whose work was their identity? Where can they go from here?

“It’s clear that Menashe doesn’t have enough to do,” says Dr. Wikler. “He didn’t prepare for his retirement by cultivating interests besides his work. But even at this late stage, it’s not too late for Menashe to take classes, join an exercise program, or find something to do to fill his time in a meaningful way, so that he’s not overly dependent on his wife.”

Ideally, a man should cultivate those interests earlier on. “It’s understandable that a person is going to invest the bulk of their energy into their career,” says Dr. Wikler, “but they should leave some time to developing outside interests whether it’s exercise, hobbies, or, l’havdil, learning. A doctor I know is retired and now he learns full-time. That worked for him because he spent time learning even while he was practicing.”

A study in the American Journal of Geriatric Psychiatry found that the incidence of depressive disorders peaks at the time of retirement. The study showed that retirement is a major life change and a “potential stressor.” So, does that mean you should retire as late as possible? Surprisingly, the study concluded the opposite was true. People retiring later (ages 65-69) had a higher risk of depression than those retiring earlier (60-64). Perhaps it’s because people who retire earlier have more time to develop hobbies and interests than those who retire later.

A Good Eye

At the end of the day, the only person you can change is yourself. Even amid the challenges that come with retirement, women have real power to change the dynamic in their marriage by changing their own perspective. Instead of focusing on the minor annoyances, take the time each day to reflect on three things you’re grateful for about your spouse.

Penina tries to remind herself that Yanky has earned this. He’s worked so hard for so many years, and invested so carefully. He has the right to relax. And he’s still waking up at dawn for his early-morning shiur — no one can call him lazy.

“But,” she says ruefully, “the man I respected all those years was a man of purpose and intention, a man with a full schedule. This new Yanky, a healthy and mature adult sitting at the kitchen table and waiting for his fresh lunch… sometimes he reminds me of those men in the nursing home where I used to volunteer. I never thought I’d see my husband as needy, but sometimes that’s the word that comes to mind when he asks, ‘So when do you think lunch will be ready?’ ”

“I’ve seen many women annoyed by their retired husbands,” Sarah Chana says, “but I think they would do better to appreciate the fact that they’re still present as precious companions. The blessing can’t be taken for granted. Some women have already experienced widowhood at the retirement stage; they would give anything to still be “bothered” by an ever-present spouse.” In fact, according to the U.S. Census Bureau, 24 percent of women ages 65-74 are living alone, and the number goes up to almost 57 percent when you get to 75 and up. “Just try to appreciate the fact that he’s there, and he can be a companion for you, and you can still enjoy his company. There’s something about the male presence that is comforting and protective. When you’re by yourself and he’s not there, you feel a heightened sense of vulnerability as well as possible emptiness or even loss of purpose. At those times when you’re feeling crowded by his presence, try to remember this and appreciate it.”

Agra D’Pirka

Ezra Klein, a lawyer from Flatbush, wanted to learn in the mornings before work but saw that there wasn’t a structured environment for people who wanted to learn part-time. To fill the gap, he created Agra D’Pirka. Now there are close to 20 programs across the country.

“Growing up, Torah learning was a huge value in my home,” explains Ezra. “My parents, Avraham Elazar and Piri Klein, would pay my rebbi to come learn with me every Sunday after we’d finished a half day of learning in the morning. My mother was from a rabbinic family, her father was a rosh yeshivah in Hungary, and after surviving Auschwitz she and her father came to America and rebuilt.

“I started my own law firm in 1989. In 1990, my good friend Marty Gelber joined, and he said, ‘I want to learn till eleven and come in at noon.’ I said, ‘Fine.’ Then I asked myself, ‘Why don’t I do the same thing?’

“I’d go to different shuls to learn with my chaburah and what I noticed was that in each shul there were usually three or four people learning by themselves with the rabbi in an ad hoc shiur. I saw that there was a need for a midmorning program, from 9:30 to 11:30 a.m.

“After my mother passed away, in 2008, I decided to start a kollel in her memory. A lot of people snickered and said, ‘This guy is going to start a new yeshivah program?’ but baruch Hashem it’s been a huge success. On the first day of the program fifty people joined.

“The key to the whole program is to find the best maggidei shiur. The lecturers we have are second to none. We find rabbanim who speak to the heart and soul of our holy Jews. An average weekly attendance at all Agra D’Pirka shiurim is a thousand people or more.

“It takes us one hundred to two hundred hours to put together a program. We have four or five people on staff and a payroll of close to half a million dollars. The rabbis have to be paid, and we give breakfast to the participants. We had two dinners and one Charidy campaign. We don’t charge for any of our programs. Finding the money to run this program is a constant challenge, but Hashem always comes through. We are always happy to accept sponsorships and dedications.

“The men love it. It takes up the first half of their day. Around ten to twenty percent of the men stay after to continue learning more by themselves. Many of the retired men had learned seriously twenty to thirty years ago, and they’re so happy to come back. It makes them feel young again, and the wives are thrilled because their husbands are busy with tachlis for the first half of the day. Torah learning is the most important thing a man can do at any stage of life. He’s serving G-d in the best possible way.

“Agra D’Pirka is always growing — last year, we started a youth branch in Boro Park that gets thirty kids every weeknight. My whole family is involved with it. One son runs the Lakewood branch, another gives lectures in Queens. It’s raised my whole family’s level of Yiddishkeit tremendously.”

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 973)