My parents have been together for 33 years. In all that time, the word divorce was never tossed around at home not even as a joke. Before I got married, my dad sat me down and gave me a handful of nuggets that still rattle around in my head:
1. Dad poured himself a strong cup of tea, sat across from me, and said, Son, if you want to spend your life with the same woman, prepare yourself to meet many different versions of her. Back then, I didnt quite get it now, it hits home. He was talking about the years. The woman who laughs at twenty, goes quiet at thirty, gets worn out at forty, and becomes wise at fifty. A man spoils his own marriage if he insists on being with the girl he met at the start, without realising he hasnt been that same bloke for years himself.
2. Then he added, Dont be afraid of an argument be afraid of silence. If people are arguing, Dad said, it means they care. Theyre still trying to get through to each other, no matter how dramatic it gets. Silence, on the other hand, usually means someones checked out and isnt holding out hope theyll be heard anymore. We had our moments at home. Mum could lose her temper, slam a door, march about the house, then put the kettle on. But Dad never played the cold shoulder game he always made peace with Mum that very day. He practically had a PhD in apologies.
3. Never compare, he said, staring wistfully out the window. Not with other peoples families, and not with how things used to be. Once you start comparing, you lose the flavour of what youve actually got. Comparison sneaks in and makes you a right fusspot. I remembered something simple: Mum never cooked a roast the same way twice. I never saw Dad complain or give his rating, even if it was a bit overdone. Hed just tuck in as if he was tasting it for the first time and, without fail, would grin and say, By George, thats delicious! Thats how he showed respect for all the graft at home.
4. Then Dad talked about conversations. Let her get it off her chest, he put it simply. At the end of a tough day, a woman needs to talk about whats built up, and your job isnt to interrupt, argue, or score points on whos right. You might crave quiet, you might be knackered, you might not understand her feelings at all but give her ten, fifteen minutes just to let it all out while you sit nearby. Dad always asked Mum how her day went, what happened at work, what was bothering her, what made her smile. Sometimes, all you need is that one question to make home feel lighter. And, one last thing he told me that stuck: in public, never speak over your wife or make her the butt of a joke. When youre out, you stand with her, or you end up chipping away at the respect between youand good luck patching that up.
And that, as Dad likes to say, is worth more than a winning lottery ticket.
