I’ve been thinking about connection lately. In particular, connection in marriage. I’ve been married seven years and real connection is not as simple as I thought it would be. Especially while enduring infertility. It’s too easy to default to the daily conversations about to do lists and budgeting and calendar stuff and did I start the dishwasher before bed. But marriage needs more than that.
Lately, I’ve been finding connection with Dearest Carl in surprising places. It’s sitting on the couch late at night after some event, sharing a cocktail and listening to music in the dark. It’s ranting about traffic in the car and he says something that makes me laugh. It’s reading our separate books, snuggled under the covers. It’s making eye contact across the room at a party. While this connection isn’t the only kind that helps us to thrive together, it’s worth noticing and embracing. Just the fact that it can happen spontaneously.
We have begun weekly date nights this fall, instead of just whenever it fits in the calendar. This has been great and has challenged me to come up with topics that are deeper than “how was your day?” Last week we sat across the table sharing a sub and he asked me what music I was listening to lately. Suddenly we felt like friends hanging out instead of people that live together all the time.
It’s something we’re working on. Asking, pursuing, getting to know each other more each day. It really is a privilege to have the opportunity to connect with my Dearest Carl. He’s worth all of it.