Eye on the Ball
You have to be very fond of men. Very, very fond. You have to be very fond of them to love them. Otherwise they're simply unbearable.
~ Marguerite Duras
Eye on the Ball 11.5.2005
Thirty years of marriage doesn't make it any easier. We have just celebrated that milestone on the second time around for each of us. The challenges of co-habitation are just as daunting as ever and may have intensified as life takes unforseen directions.
Retirement, golden age, mature years... nonsense! What a crock! Definitely not when he certainly comes from another tribe...
no, another universe!
There are several other couples I know, who occasionally speak with honesty of having to re-learn to live together. They find themselves avoiding even looking at each other. They barely tolerate being in the same room. They come up with creative ways to define and defend their borders.
How'd we ever get to this? Where did we get off the road and into this ditch? Contrary to popular belief, how can our differences grow to be so vast in sunset years?
An early morning soccer scrimmage got us to the field to watch this miracle of a girl who scored three of the team's four points, but was disappointed when they lost 4-6. She was indomitable.
She ran like the wind. She worked on her left kick. She practiced her passing. She kept her eye on the ball. Usually however, learning her womanhood early probably, she brought it down the field by herself.
Garrison Keillor's script goes, "He is using the upstairs bathroom. He is leaving the newspaper all around the house. He is heard groaning now. Eyesight failing. Life is flowing. Need more ketchup! Ketchup, for our lives!"
Dribbling down field. Eye on the ball. Looking to pass.
Granny
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