DOWN HOME: He wishes she wouldn’t speculate

Posted: 3/31/06

DOWN HOME:
He wishes she wouldn’t speculate

The other day, Joanna started a conversation: “Babe, if you out-live me … .”

I just hate it when my wife talks like that.

When this happens, she’s either telling me something I don’t like to think about (like insurance or taxes), something she thinks I’ll forget (like where she keeps the key to the safe-deposit box), or something she wants me to do (like remember to give such-and-such to so-and-so).

I don’t really mind being told, reminded and/or directed. Jo’s pretty good at telling, reminding and/or directing me at times when she’s not discussing her own mortality. In fact, if she didn’t remind, tell and/or direct me fairly often, I’d be a mess.

Of course, I do mind thinking about the possibility of walking through a portion of my life without the gal who tells, reminds and/or directs me about something practically everyday. I could get over not knowing something, forgetting something and/or wandering around for lack of direction. But I’d hate like the dickens not having her by my side, whether or not I need to be told, reminded and/or directed.

Sometimes, I think I’m selfish to hope that someday, when the time comes, she out-lives me. It’s sort of like when dear friends move to another city. The folks who move may be sad to go, but they’re on a new adventure. The ones who stay behind have to pick up the pieces as they inhabit the same old landscape, only this time without the companionship of loved ones who mean so much to them and who infuse those places with meaning and vitality.

When our girls were little, I absolutely knew who they would need the most if they were left with only one parent—their mama. While I did my best to be an engaged, involved, loving and supportive daddy, Jo was gravity in our home. The girls got their bearings each day from her.

Now, the calculus of who goes first is more complicated. Lindsay’s married; Molly’s in college. Their day-to-day need for either of us has changed. And, boy, is that a change in parenting. Especially if you’re a parent who enjoys—no, loves—daily interaction with your kids. But that’s a story for another column.

Although we’re both relatively young (Our friends say, “Fifty is the new 35,” and we’re not there yet), we’ve reached the stage of life and marriage we’ve contemplated in friends and family: Which one of the two could best handle living alone?

That’s a highly speculative question. The “answer” is based on observations about who’s most self-sufficient—which actually has more to do with toughness and socialization skills than cooking and doing chores. But when the subject comes up, I usually think about personal faith. Who will be able to rely on God and depend upon divine resources to survive the loss of the love of a lifetime?

You’re probably saying, “Awww, this is morbid.” You’re probably right.

And I don’t intend to think about it again. At least until Jo comes in and says, “Babe, if you out-live me … .”

–Marv Knox