Strocel.com | Marriage

Remembering Why

Amber on February 7, 2012 6 Comments

Sometimes in our relationships it’s easy to get caught up in the who did what and the oh woe is me and the gah, stuff all over the floor. This is true whether you’re talking about your partner, your mother, your good friend or your kids. Life is messy. Relationships are messy. If you’re not careful, they can devolve into finger-pointing and raised voices and hiding in the bathroom. But hiding in the bathroom never really works. They always find you.

In the middle of the crunchy, creaky, cranky day-to-day, I lose sight of myself. I forget. But then those moments come that remind me. Little flashes of truth and memory flit across my consciousness, until I almost can’t remember how very wronged I am. I watch my babies sleeping, or share an inside joke, or see that look in someone’s eye that lets me know they remember and care. These little moments are what see me through, and stop my words in throat before they come spilling out of my mouth into a big puddle of anger and blame.

Those moments make me swallow it all. It doesn’t taste good, but it makes me feel better. It’s kind of like taking medicine, I think. Sometimes you just have to choke it down.

Looking around my family room right now, I see the ghosts of my days moving around in front of me. Water paints, dropped on the floor. Dirt on the carpet beside the back door. Flip flops, flung from little girl feet. A hard hat, worn by a very serious three-year-old “builder man”. It’s easy to feel annoyed, as I survey the remnants left behind. But when I remember the moments, I see exuberance and joy and play and life. Messy, messy, imperfect, beautiful life. There is just so much of it in this place that it explodes across the whole house, leaving debris in its wake. Reminders of the fullness that can wear me down, and build me right back up again.

Sometimes, when we can’t take it anymore, my husband and I get down on the floor and clean together, sorting Potato Head bits and puzzle pieces and dress-up clothes. Sometimes we both become frustrated until we’re shooting each other looks, wordless accusations flung across the room: look what your children did. But then a joke is made, the floor is clean, and we both remember why. Why we chose each other, why we love these kids, why our life is beautiful even in its messiness.

Maybe one day, I will find order in the chaos. Maybe one day, my children will learn to put all of their stuff away and I will become better about enforcing tidy-up times. Maybe one day the mess won’t grate on me like it does now. Until then, I do my best to remember the why behind the crunchy, creaky, cranky day-to-day. It’s always right there, waiting to remind me.

Tagged With: Marriage, Navel Gazing, Parenting

Choosing not to Take Offense

Amber on October 13, 2011 5 Comments

It’s Thursday, so I’m Crafting my Life! I invite you to join in the fun. If you would like to share a story from your own journey, please drop me a line. If you’d like to find out more about my online class on living with intention and my upcoming e-book, visit craftingmylife.com.

Last week I talked about my decision to pursue happiness, rather than spending my time focusing on the slings and arrows of daily life with little children. After all, I chose this life deliberately. I knew that having kids would present some challenges, but I chose to do it anyway. And the truth is, my life as a mom has many perks. I’m trying to focus on the upside, even as the downside has a way of pressing on from every angle.

My resolution to seek greater happiness is all well and good, and I’m committed to working at it. I’m making progress, too, which is great. But it doesn’t come easily for me. I am something of a natural optimist, which helps, but I also have a tendency to wallow and I am quick to take offense. You may not see this if you only interact with me online, because online I have the benefit of time. I can pause and re-frame before I respond to a perceived slight. I am curious, not furious, even though my natural impulse is exactly the opposite.

I was thinking about my rush to take offense as I once again found myself, in the course of an ordinary day with my kids, filled with rage towards them. It’s amazing how kids can do this – they can inspire extreme love and extreme anger all at the same time. I don’t think they’d even done anything that remarkable, it was just one of those days that drags on and on and on until you’re *thisclose* to running screaming into the street and never coming back. Even as I found myself in that position, I knew I had no choice but to pull it together and be the grown-up, so I did, as I muttered silently about my offspring’s extreme ingratitude and, oh, woe is me etc. etc. etc.

Not long after my near-meltdown during dinner prep (side note – these things always happen during dinner prep, don’t they?) I had some heated discussions with my husband. The topic doesn’t matter, and it really could have been anything. But already worn down by our days, it didn’t go well. We snapped at each other and glared and stomped and generally behaved like the children instead of the parents. In that moment, I could see how my bad mood led me to take everything that my husband said The Wrong Way. There’s nothing he could have said or done to placate me, because I was not in a space where I was ready to be anything other than offended and wronged.

I’m not beating myself up over one bad day, or even several bad days – we all have them. And yet, as I look back on the whole situation, I can see that I played a large part in creating my own misery. Out of habit, I often choose to take offense. I keep track of wrongs – real and perceived – and fly off the handle when the tally gets too high. I conveniently overlook anything that doesn’t jive with the story in my head about how very bad I have it, and in the process I ensure that I’m very unhappy indeed, and so is everyone else around me.

How would things be different if I employed my online strategy and paused for a moment before responding? How would things be different if I chose not to take offense, and tried to see other people’s actions in a positive light? I suspect that I would be happier, and my relationships would be better. I would probably see the good in other people’s motives a little more clearly, if I didn’t spend most of my time looking for reasons to feel wounded.

I don’t want to return to my people-pleasing ways, because that’s not productive. Taking a moment before responding, and making a conscious choice not to take offense where there’s probably none intended, is a very different thing than bending over backwards trying to make others happy. In truth, my tendencies to be a pleaser are what lead me to take offense so easily. When I subvert my own wishes and dreams for others, I expect them to be thankful for it, and that’s what leads to wallowing and moaning. When I place a priority on my own needs, and meet others on a level playing field, I can improve the way that I relate to them without becoming a doormat.

In my quest to become bad enough, I don’t need to treat others badly. So I am going to try to pause before I react a little more, and consciously choose not to take offense. It feels like a change worth making.

Are you quick to anger when relating to others? When someone says something you’re not sure how to take, are you more curious or furious? And how do you avoid falling into the trap of pleasing others and feeling wronged yourself? I’d love to hear your thoughts!

Tagged With: Crafting my Life, Marriage, Navel Gazing, Parenting

Happy Birthday to Jon

Amber on September 23, 2011 9 Comments

I will open this post with a confession – I had no good blog post ideas for today. Some people would say that means I shouldn’t bother posting, but as my posting schedule shows, I am clearly not some people. But then, as if God Himself heard my desperation, a realization washed over my consciousness: today is my husband’s birthday. Cause for celebration and blog fodder, I smell a winner!

I first met Jon in September, 1989, some 22 years ago. He was 12 years old, and his locker was right next to mine, so on our first day of junior high I taught him how to open his locker lock. It was not love at first sight (see: 12 years old), but I liked him well enough. And in fact, when my good friend asked me who I thought I would marry I said, “Someone sort of like Jon Strocel – but cuter.”

Me and Jon, circa 1996

I saw from the beginning, even when I was only 13 years old myself, that Jon was someone special. He was a good listener, and a great conversationalist, which are not necessarily common traits amongst the junior high set. While most of the males at school wanted me to stop talking already, Jon actually seemed to enjoy hearing what I had to say. If only he had been cuter.

Luckily, puberty had its way with Jon, and by the time that he reached the end of grade nine he was several inches taller and his voice was several octaves lower. And so, when he was only 14 and I was only 15, I agreed to be his girlfriend. And, through some twist of fate I never stopped – not through high school, or university, or first jobs, or first apartments, or marriage, or babies. I have bought birthday presents for Jon for two entire decades now, and I hope to do it for many more still. Awwwww.

Me and Jon, circa 2004

You may have observed that I am older than my husband. It’s true, he’s four and a half months younger than me. While the importance of those four and a half months diminished significantly once Jon could legally drink, every year from May to September I am still keenly aware of the difference. My husband is a charming, lovely, wonderful man. I feel so very lucky to be married to him. But he is also a first rate smart ass. He does not hesitate to tease me about my advanced age, but as of today, the playing field is once again level.

So allow me to extend my warmest birthday wishes to the man in my life, who also happens to be the very best person I know. And allow me to also say, “Welcome to 35, Babe. You aren’t younger than me anymore.”

Tagged With: Birthdays, Marriage, Navel Gazing

Playing at Being Grown-Up

Amber on May 26, 2011 13 Comments

It’s Thursday, so I’m Crafting my Life! This year, I’m just writing about whatever is currently on my mind. And if you would like to chime in and contribute a guest post about your own journey, please drop me a line and we’ll chat.

My husband Jon and I went away overnight this weekend. It was only one night, but it was our first kid-free night in a hotel since before our daughter Hannah was born in 2005. It also happened to be our first night away from Jacob, ever, in the nearly three years of his life. We were belatedly celebrating our tenth wedding anniversary and twentieth dating anniversary, and as you may have been able to deduce, this trip was a Big Deal.

We opted to buy a package, which included a fancy-schmancy room, a couples massage, dinner and dancing, a bottle of champagne and a buffet breakfast. (Aside – buffet breakfast is one of my most favourite things in the world.) Plus, the resort we stayed at has this great pool filled with water from the local hot springs to soak in. It was all very lovely, indeed.

View from our hotel room balcony

As we sat down for dinner, all dressed up and looking our best, Jon told me that he felt that this was a very grown-up thing to be doing. That is, wearing fancy clothes for a four course meal and an evening of dancing. I replied that it felt as if we were playing at being grown-ups. We were putting on a slightly contrived role along with our nice shoes.

When I thought about it, I decided that maybe this is really what I’m doing all the time. When I moved away from home I played at being independent, until I got so good at pretending that it became second nature to me. When I got married, I played at being a wife, until the game of make-believe became part of who I am. And when I had kids I played at being a parent, until I couldn’t stop playing at being a parent even if I wanted to. I also played at being a university student, an engineer and a blogger. Maybe life is just a series of role-playing games that never really end, and tend towards the mundane.

I feel the least grown-up when I fall short in my little game of make-believe. I forget to leave a tip for the hotel cleaning staff, or I let my kids eat too much junk food, or I don’t wash my dishes promptly and end up having to scrape off crusted-on crud. In short, I fail to act in the way that I expect a person in my adopted role would act. I am lifting the curtain on all the pretending I’m doing, and I let everyone (and especially myself) see that maybe I don’t really have it together after all.

I suspect I’m not the only one who feels as if they’re playing a role. I bet that we all feel this way from time to time. After all, it’s not as if anyone wakes up one morning and suddenly feels like a grown-up. It’s only time and practice and lots of playing at being grown-up that makes us so. In short, we need to fake it ’til we make it. Sometimes less faking it is required than others, but somewhere inside we’re all still the little kids who feel like intruders in the adult world. When I realize this, I feel less alone, and maybe even a little bit vindicated.

So, this weekend Jon and I played at being grown-ups. We played at being a couple who can eat dinner with two hands while it’s still hot. We played at being able to get up whenever we feel like it, and at taking a walk without stopping to look at every rock, flower and car. It was fun. And sometimes, we almost forgot that we were pretending.

Do you ever feel like you’re just playing at being a grown-up? Tell me all about it!

Tagged With: Crafting my Life, Marriage, Navel Gazing, Travel

20 Years Goes By in a Flash

Amber on April 30, 2011 21 Comments

Tomorrow will mark the 20^th anniversary of the day that this boy named Jon asked me to be his girlfriend. We were in a park in Abbotsford, not far from the Jr. High where we were both grade 9 students. We were 14 years old – so, so young. Unbelievably young, really.

Jon kissed me in that park that day – my first real kiss from a boy. And, to this day, he’s the only boy I’ve ever really kissed. (Although Jon, ever so much more worldly, apparently kissed his grade 7 girlfriend. I’m still vaguely jealous.) And now, through some fluke of time, we find ourselves 20 years later, we’re still together. We’ve never been apart. Well, I mean, physically we’ve been apart. Sometimes Jon goes to work and stuff, and back in 1991 we lived in different houses with our own parents. Because, you know, we were 14. But we’ve never broken up, and never dated anyone else in all that time.

How does 20 years go by so fast? How did I end up here, today, married to that boy? I remember every step along the way, but it sure doesn’t feel like it was 20 years. 10, maybe. But surely not 20. And yet it was – I have the photographs to prove it.

Amber and Jon (with Jim Lind) in March '91

Back in 1991 with our friend Jim

Year-end dance in 1992

Amber and Jon, all dolled up for high school graduation

All dressed up for our high school prom in 1994

A summer day in 1996

On a weekend get-away in 1999^*

^*Tip: When your girlfriend’s expecting you to propose anytime, and you’re all dressed up and seated in a fancy restaurant, instead of saying, “I forgot something in the car and I need to go get it,” say, “I forgot the camera in the car, I’ll be right back.” Unless, of course, you particularly enjoy the hairy eyeball when she decides this is it, and it turns out not to be it at all.

At our engagement party in 2000

Amber’s university graduation in 2000

Our wedding in 2001

Visiting Peggy’s Cove in 2004

Welcoming baby Hannah in 2005

Jon’s brother’s wedding in 2008

Welcoming baby Jacob in 2008

Our family in 2010

It turns out that 20 years is not so long at all. And it also turns out that sticking it out through thick and thin, when you’ve found the right person, is totally worth it. I can think of no one more right for me than my husband Jon. He is truly the very best person I know, and I’m so glad that I found him so early in life.

20 years ago I never could have imagined that day in the park marked the beginning of a journey that would bring me here. That we would weather so many changes together – learning how to drive, graduating from high school, starting first jobs, going away to university, marriage and cars and a mortgage and babies. 20 years has certainly brought us a lot of changes, and I can’t wait to see what happens in the next 20 years. To us!

Tagged With: Marriage, Memories, Navel Gazing

Oh Happy Day

Amber on April 27, 2011 9 Comments

In less than a week my husband Jon and I will celebrate 20 years as a couple. When we started dating in 1991 I was a few days shy of my 15^th birthday, and as Jon is a few months younger than me, he was just 14 years old. We were babies, and we never could have imagined that we would find ourselves here, today – married with children, two cars and a mortgage.

I’m sure our families couldn’t have imagined it, either. I remember the first time I met Jon’s youngest sibling, Christy. She was just 10 years old at the time, and she was discussing her upcoming dance recital with her mother. If I recall correctly, her number had a 1950s theme. She was, at the time, still very much a little girl. I’m not sure she was terribly interested in her older brother’s girlfriend, and I don’t think anyone could blame her.

But of course, children grow up. During the years I spent with Jon I watched Christy finish elementary school, and high school, and university. I saw her move away from home and chart her own course. She was a bridesmaid in my wedding, and she was at the hospital on the day my first child, Hannah, was born. We have come to share a certain amount of history, and our lives are now connected. And so I was overjoyed when she got married on Saturday and I was there to see it.

Hannah was the flower girl, and she performed her duties admirably. Jon was the master of ceremonies, and he performed his duties admirably, too. I had no duties at all, and that was cool with me. While Jacob visited my mother, I got to sit back and enjoy myself.

It was a really lovely day. I’d like to extend my congratulations to Christy and Steve, and offer my best wishes for a long and happy life together. I look forward to seeing what the next 20 years hold for them, now that they’re walking together. I hope they’re every bit as beautiful as the day that started it all was:

Hannah holds Christy's bouquet during the ceremony

I’m really terribly glad that my own wedding is long over, and I don’t have to do that again. But there’s still something amazing about a day when two people make that commitment to each other. Love and happiness overflowing until you can’t help but feel the joy. It fills me with hope, in the best way possible. Maybe because I didn’t have to write up the seating chart.

Care to share your own wedding stories? I’d love to hear!

Tagged With: Marriage, Memories, Weddings

Telecommunicating

Amber on April 12, 2011 21 Comments

My husband Jon and I will celebrate our 20th anniversary as a couple in a few weeks. Where has the time gone? I don’t know. We’re both very different people than we were 20 years ago, that’s for sure. Back then we were both in grade nine. It was the early 90s, and we were in love, which meant that we spent lots and lots of time talking on the phone. It also meant that when I moved away to university our long distance rates were ridiculously high compared to today’s rates, and we’re a little bitter about that, but I guess that’s just life in the big city.

Assuming that telecommunications rates are subject to change without notice in the big city. I’m not sure I’m exactly making sense, here. Please, just hang in there. I’m getting someplace, I swear.

Once Jon and I got married and moved in together, things changed. We didn’t talk on the phone as much anymore. Because, really, calling somebody who’s sitting on the couch beside you would be weird. And when we weren’t in the same place, it was usually because one of us was at work. Plus, by that point everyone had email pretty much everywhere, so that took over a lot of the perfunctory information-sharing that may have happened by phone in the past. Think, “I have a dentist appointment on Tuesday after work, so I’ll be late getting home.” It’s just as easy to send a quick note as to call someone.

I didn’t really notice the transition as our relationship moved from telephone-based to non-telephone-based. It happened naturally and gradually, until Jon and I reached the point where we rarely speak on the phone at all anymore. I wouldn’t say that I miss it. We have a whole lot more options to pick up the slack, from instant messaging to texting to emailing to sharing Google calendars.

Jacob and Hannah seeing their dad off at the airport

But right now Jon is out of town. He left on Sunday night to attend a conference, and he’ll be coming home on Thursday. It’s not a ridiculously long trip, but all of the sudden we’re depending on telecommunications again. And while emails and instant messages are lovely, there’s something about just talking that’s really so much better.

When I talk to Jon, whether it’s on the phone or on a Skype video call, I notice that I give him my attention in a way that I rarely do when he’s at home. We spend 30 minutes focused on each other, sharing what’s going on with us. When we’re at home we don’t do that. We chat while we clean, we chat during commercial breaks, we try to have dinnertime conversation over the din of crying children, but there’s always something else going on the background that’s taking up some mental and physical space.

Jon and I may spend far more time inhabiting the same space than we did when we were 18, but we spend far less time actually talking. It makes me a little bit sad, although I do understand why things work this way. Our lives are busy, and we don’t always have the time that we used to have when we were young and childless to focus on each other. But that’s the challenge – making someone a priority, even though life is busy. After all, one day our kids won’t be little anymore. And when that day comes, I’d like to still have a relationship with my husband. Whether we’re talking on the phone, in person, or via the futuristic communications implants we’ll all have in decades to come.

How do you maintain the conversation when you’re living in the middle of kid-related chaos? Do you resort to technology to be heard over the din? Or do you set aside specific time to spend together? I’d love your thoughts!

Tagged With: Marriage, Navel Gazing

Appointments with my Husband

Amber on March 31, 2011 12 Comments

It’s Thursday, so I’m Crafting my Life! I’m hard at work on the second run of the Crafting my Life course, so I thought I’d share some thoughts that have come out of the class material on money. As always, if you would like to chime in and contribute a guest post about your own journey, please drop me a line – I’d love to have you!

One of the topics that we cover in the Crafting my Life class is money. It’s not exactly the easiest and most fun week in the class, but it is one of the most important. Money, and our relationship to it, shapes a lot of our behaviours and actions. It can make us stay in a job that we hate, it can keep us from having the things we want, and it can change our status in society. Money is tied to value in our culture. Just consider the phrase “net worth“, and you’ll see what I mean.

I’ve heard that money is the leading cause of divorce. As someone who’s been married for 10 years, I can see how that would be true. Sharing finances can be stressful, and it can trigger a lot of our issues surrounding security and happiness. If we’re not on the same financial page with our partner, it can be even more difficult. But getting on the same page isn’t always so easy.

As part of the class content on money, I interviewed Sierra Black. In addition to her fabulous parenting blog, she also writes at the financial blog Get Rich Slowly. I wanted her thoughts on how to share finances with someone without turning it into a battle. And she came through for me, with a suggestion to have regularly scheduled money meetings.

My husband Jon and I are usually on the same financial page, more or less. We’re both reasonably frugal people who don’t spend a lot on ourselves. But even so, we’ve had our fair share of disagreements when it comes to spending and saving, like any couple married for 10 years. We can’t be the only ones who’ve started a discussion about something seemingly innocuous, like what the vegetable garden will look like this year, and had it turn into an all-out argument about family finances. It takes up a lot of space and energy, and it’s not exactly my idea of a good time.

So we decided to take Sierra’s suggestion. Once a week, now, we sit down and talk about our money. If something comes up between meetings, we put it on the agenda. It sounds kind of ridiculous and formal to have weekly appointments with my husband to discuss finances, but it really works. It frees up time and mental space during the week, and it gives us the opportunity to both be heard and be sure that we’re on the same page. It’s actually been a very freeing experience, which isn’t what you’d probably expect from a money meeting, but I’m taking it.

While the money meetings are great, our relationship with money remains a constantly-evolving work in progress. That’s the way that life is. And so I’d love to hear how you and your partner have gotten on the same financial page. How do you share money and share a life without creating too much stress? Did you marry someone with the same financial views as you, or are you total opposites? Please tell me!

PS – Advance discount registration for Crafting my Life is now open. You get all the living with intention for $50 less than everyone else! How can you lose? Subscribe to my mail list to get the registration link.

Tagged With: Crafting my Life, Marriage, Money, Navel Gazing

Are Bridal Showers Outdated?

Amber on March 7, 2011 28 Comments

I attended my sister-in-law’s bridal shower this past weekend. It was lovely. She was lovely. The hostesses were exceedingly lovely. It was a great bridal shower. What I am about to say is not a reflection of the shower in any way. It would by highly hypocritical of me to say bad things about people who have bridal showers in any case, given that no less than four of them were thrown in my honour. I was grateful for them, and the generosity that people expressed on my behalf.

And yet, attending the shower this weekend left me thinking about bridal showers in general. These days, I see women opting for alternatives to traditional baby showers. Blessingways are becoming increasingly popular, for example. A lot of the people who seek alternatives are looking for something more meaningful, that speaks to who they are. I think that’s great. Traditions are meant to evolve right along with society.

The hostesses thoughtfully bought markers and colouring books for Hannah, so she had a blast at the shower

I haven’t seen a similar evolution in bridal showers, though. Historically, as I understand it, men had bachelor parties and women had showers. And then, sometime between the time my mother was first married in 1971 and when I was married 30 years later, bachelorette parties became common. I had a bachelorette party (just one) in addition to my four showers. Most everyone does, now. The bridal showers typically involve older female relatives or work colleagues, and the bachelorette is a chance to let off some steam with your close friends.

Now women have two kinds of parties, and the shower feels like the outdated one. Even if you don’t live together before marriage (and many couples do – CNN says it’s 70%), very few of us are living at home when we marry. Jon and I didn’t live together before we were married, but I’d lived on my own for years, and so had he (though he moved back home during our engagement). My point is that we’re not setting up house when we get married. It’s lovely to get some nice gifts, and especially the big-ticket items we might not spring for ourselves, but it’s not the necessity it was for brides-to-be during my grandmother’s era.

Sara, Hannah and Christy at Christy's shower

Opening gifts

Plus, let’s be honest. Isn’t it just a little weird to pass around someone’s tea towels and ooh and aah over them? Even at my own showers, I found that a little strange. And let’s not talk about when my grandmother and great aunt checked out the lingerie my sister bought me as a joke. Eep! I still shudder just thinking about it.

I asked what people thought of bridal showers on Twitter and Facebook, and got a range of responses. The people who were pro-shower generally put a different spin on things. They had a pedicure party, or visited a hot dog stand, or created a blessing ritual. They personalized it and updated it. But many people were anti-shower, and more specifically, anti-shower-game. It’s clear to me that many of us are just not huge fans of the bridal shower in general, much as we may love the bride-to-be and want to wish her all the best.

My gorgeous sister-in-law, cutting her cake

Like I said, I went to a bridal shower this weekend. It was lovely. I was happy to have the chance to celebrate my sister-in-law, and her upcoming marriage. And the cake was delicious. But I wonder how many more showers I will go to. I don’t know if my daughter will play toilet paper bride as she prepares for her big day, or whether there will be a new kind of event to mark the transition. Or maybe marriage rates will decline even further from their all-time low, and there won’t be much call for showers at all. I suppose that only time will tell.

In the meantime, I will attend bridal showers. I will ooh and aah over tea towels, and play games, and eat cake. I will celebrate and I will probably even enjoy myself, mostly. And I will continue to wonder what the future holds for this tradition.

I’d love to hear your thoughts. Are bridal showers outdated, or are they just the right party for our times? Did you have a traditional bridal shower (or four) of your own? Do you think that the shower can be updated to better reflect the way our society works today? Tell me all about it!

Tagged With: Marriage, Navel Gazing, Weddings

Suspenders

Amber on December 14, 2010 21 Comments

Yesterday I finished my Christmas shopping. Hooray for that! I was waiting in line to make one of my final purchases at that Canadian shopping institution, The Bay, when a woman caught my eye. I didn’t have my children with me, so I had the mental energy to actually notice her. I could see that it was taking her a long time to make it from her spot at the front of the line to the next available cashier. She was pushing a walker, filled with the day’s purchases. I don’t know how old she was, but if I were to guess I would say at least 80.

She laid her items on the counter in front of the cashier. The two women chatted as the cashier rang up the purchase – two pairs of suspenders. Christmas suspenders for her husband, I thought. I built a whole backstory in my mind. They’ve been married for 57 years, and every Christmas she buys him suspenders. A small gift, but a thoughtful gift. He’s come to expect them. Maybe even anticipate them. By late November, his old suspenders are showing their age. But he doesn’t worry, because soon enough his supplies will be replenished.

I think you can find the meaning of life in Christmas suspenders, if you look hard enough. When viewed from the outside, it seems like a small thing. She always buys him suspenders. But start adding the little things up. He always makes her morning cup of tea. They can never agree on which restaurant to eat at. They each have their own side of the bed. On their anniversary, they always have the same chicken they ate on their wedding night. They read the paper together on Sunday mornings. All the little things that make a marriage, like small pieces of a much larger puzzle.

Casual routines spring up in a relationship, often without our notice. I certainly don’t carefully consider each interaction with Jon. We’re approaching 20 years together, and much of our life together at this point is just convention. Who knows why I sleep on the right side of the bed? I just do. Who knows why all of our towels are yellow? They just are. But sometimes, when you think about it hard enough, you remember. You remember that the one thing your fiance wanted to register for was fluffy yellow towels. You remember the way you naturally claimed ‘your side’ of the bed. You see the mosaic of a life in the little bits of a day.

It’s true that convention by any other name is a rut. Perhaps the Christmas suspenders are a symbol of a loss of creativity and connection. Perhaps, after 57 years of suspenders, her husband wishes she would get him anything else. Routine can feel comforting, like a warm bathrobe, or confining, like a straitjacket. And two people may not agree on whether this routine is well-loved or worn-out. But even that is part of a relationship. Another brick in the wall that you build together.

I wonder where I will be, 50 years from now. Will I have started buying Jon Christmas suspenders? I doubt it, never having seen Jon wear suspenders even once, unless they came with a rental suit. But as I think about it, I can guess what I might still be buying. The Christmas magazine. The Christmas pens. The Christmas book. We won’t give it a second thought. It will just be part of our life and our marriage. Not the flashy, glamourous, exciting part. But the part that happens day in and day out, and lets us know that we are together. Still together, after all these years.

Do you ever make up stories about random strangers you encounter? And do you have something that you buy your partner every holiday season? I’d love to hear!