TheBanyanTree: And the Winner is . . .

[Margaret R. Kramer]

8/20/05
Hi Love:
Love you, hope your trip was OK and call me
before you  leave, maybe I
can cheer you up. Me and George are looking for you.
I will take  some "V" so he
can give you all you deserve.  Had a decent night
sleep  Got too get the
stuff done so I will not be late.
Love you come home!
Ray and Geo.

There’s an older couple living across the street from us.  I’m sure they’ve
been married over 50 years.  He’s a perfectionist.  His yard is neat and
trim.  His house stands tall and white against the hilly forest behind it.
Every snowflake is removed from his driveway after every storm.  He owns
tons of tools and is not afraid to use them.

Ray used to talk to him.  In fact, shortly after we moved here, Ray had him
come over and showed him our house.  That guy told me Ray was so proud of
our house and he was proud of me, too.  He told me that Ray was very excited
about getting married.

I’m not as sure about the wife.  He told me they had five daughters.  I’ve
met her at a garage sale.  But she doesn’t stick in my mind as well as her
husband.  I think it’s because I see him outside all of the time and I don’t
see her leave the house much.

They go to church every Sunday.  He pulls the car up to the back steps and
waits for her to come out.  She comes out, gets in the car, and off they go.

Well, this past Sunday, I was outside, and I noticed he didn’t pull up to
the steps as he usually does.  She came out the back door and walked back to
the car, which was still by the garage.  And then they sat in the car,
talking and waving their arms around, for at least 10 minutes before finally
leaving for church.

Obviously, they were having an argument of some kind.  Yes, couples still
fight after 50 plus years.

Even perfect Ray and I fought.  But our fights were so rare and far between.
Of the two of us, I was the more likely one to get mad about something.
Then I’d wave my arms and talk loudly while he listened.  

Sometimes I was more stealthy about my anger and tried to keep it under
cover, while Ray had to figure out if something was bothering me.
Typically, he would say, “Am I on your shit list?”

That was all I needed to start a discussion, because I really didn’t want
him on my shit list.  

I probably could count on one hand how many times Ray really was angry with
me.  I never wanted him to be angry with me.  I never wanted to displease
him.  He wasn’t stealthy with his anger like I was; his emotions were always
right out there for all to see.  And I loved him for it.

Now Joe and I . . . I could see one of us getting out of the car and
stomping away.  There is no shit list.  He just gets mad and I get mad and
we duke it out.  Or we don’t talk for a few days.  Or we’re over dramatic.

It’s getting better, though.  We went through the entire month of February
without a fight.  March started out like a lion, but it’s settling down like
a lamb.  Joe and I don’t complement each other like Ray and I did, our
problem is that we’re too much alike.  We’re stubborn, bull-headed,
self-centered, and we’re always right.

One of us usually gives in, mostly Joe, and then life goes on.

The weather is beautiful today and where am I?  In the house.  I absolutely
have to get my taxes done.  I’ve been so late with them before.  This is my
last year of filing married, joint, then it’s all single after that.  Joe is
at all day grief facilitators’ training, so this my chance.

And no chance to fight, because the IRS always wins.