Forty years is almost half a century and it’s difficult to remember what brought us together then

As told to Miriam Klein Adelman

It’s just the two of us now. We can have the leisurely, candlelit dinners we always dreamed about. We can open a box of Belgian chocolates and no small pajama-clad feet will scurry around the corner to see what we’re up to, no sticky hands will reach for the box. We can take long walks without paying a babysitter a dime. The kids are out of the house and it’s back to just hubby and me.

I can’t imagine a scarier scenario.

All those years, it was the children in between us, and now it’s just — air. We sit at the table. There are no bawling babies, no squabbling children. Simply quiet. What is there to talk about after 40 years of shouting just to be heard over the din?

At this juncture in our lives, we need to recreate our relationship. Become that cutesy young couple we once were. But perhaps we never were that cutesy young couple. Maybe we were two youngsters who barely knew each other but thought we knew everything about each other. We married, and before we had the opportunity to develop a relationship, boom, there we were with a kid. Then two kids, three kids, and in five years there were four babies.

When would we have had a chance to get to know each other? Certainly not between the 2 and 5 a.m. feedings. Nor during the day, when my time was consumed with squalling babies and runny noses, his with overdue bills. We never once sustained a complete conversation not centered upon the children, or punctuated by them.

It comes back to me now, echoing through the years, the admonitions of advisers, people who’d already been there, to carve out time for the marital relationship. Whatever it takes. But the stresses of raising a family — yet another night of colicky baby; bar mitzvah lessons; the psychologist says she has ODD; wedding preparations; there’s a scary looking lump on his back — obscured those voices.  I was too busy listening to the loudest yells, the squeakiest wheels, and they were not from my husband.

The children have grown up now and left — some of them fled. We never took the vacations alone they encouraged us to do, those shalom bayis advocates. It was beyond our means and we felt the money was better spent on the children. We rarely even went out for our anniversary. Once our children sent us on a vacation to Orlando. That was fun. We visited Disneyland and saw Mickey Mouse. We even got caught in a lightning storm. But to get to know each other, on a deep level? Hmmm....

Forty years is almost half a century and it’s difficult to remember what brought us together then. I remember we had some great conversations way into the night the month or so before I got pregnant and nauseous with our first child. Great hashkafah discussions, the kind that are not at all practical but are exhilarating nonetheless. We even went once to a dimly lit restaurant, just the two of us.

He was really smart. Still is. A super mentsch. That hasn’t changed. Idealistic. Well, can’t say he retained the enthusiasm to try new things and really make a difference in the world. Things kind of slid along that front. Supporting and raising his family was his focus for the last 40 years. And we didn’t always see eye to eye on how to raise them either. Oh, and I loved his smile — more like an ear to ear grin that would spread across his face when he was really happy about something. Come to think of it, I don’t recall seeing that smile in a while.

I emotionally invested my wedded life in my children. My marriage was on cruise control. If things bothered me in the relationship, I let them slide. Not enough to erase the issues but enough not to communicate about them, so they festered. My foot is now back on the pedal. I can step on the gas and go forward or brake and get out. I want to continue the ride, but I need a map. How does one rekindle old feelings and recreate mutual interests? Focus on the commonalities between us as a couple rather than the fact that we share nine children?

Forty years is way too long to put a marriage aside in a forgotten corner. I know that now. But is it too late to reconnect?

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 339)