Showing posts with label Marlo Thomas. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Marlo Thomas. Show all posts

Wednesday, September 18, 2024

You and Me on the Rock (Brandi Carlile)

Today is our 48th wedding anniversary.  WTF.  Crazy, right?!?

Oh, and if you're doing the math at home:  17,520 One Days at a Time... 🤣


A Happy Marriage, One Gesture at a Time by Susan Semenak

"Really great marriages are not the result of long hours of hard work, but of everyday behaviours and attitudes, seemingly small gestures that show your spouse that he or she is noticed, appreciated, respected, loved and desired," Orbuch writes in her just-published book 5 Simple Steps to Take Your Marriage from Good to Great (Delacorte Press), which is based on the study's findings.
MONTREAL – What makes couples happy? What makes marriages last? It's the small stuff, it turns out: Telling him he looks great in his jeans. Bringing her coffee in bed in the morning. Sneaking off without the kids from time to time. Taking turns doing the laundry.

Terri Orbuch, a Michigan-based research professor and marriage- and-family therapist, spent more than 22 years charting the love lives of 373 married couples in the U.S. government-funded Early Years of Marriage Project, the longest-running study of marriage conducted in North America.

The secrets of happy couples, Orbuch and her team of researchers found, were surprisingly simple.

"Really great marriages are not the result of long hours of hard work, but of everyday behaviours and attitudes, seemingly small gestures that show your spouse that he or she is noticed, appreciated, respected, loved and desired," Orbuch writes in her just-published book 5 Simple Steps to Take Your Marriage from Good to Great (Delacorte Press), which is based on the study's findings.

When couples in solid relationships run into trouble, or experience "the blahs," they often focus on what's wrong, as do many self-help books and marriage counsellors, Orbuch said in a telephone interview this week. But she found focusing on their strengths and taking a few minutes every day "to fix the little things" had a greater impact on happiness.

"It's not those big challenges that couples experience that eat away at happiness so much as the seemingly minor issues that accumulate over the years," Orbuch said. "We're so busy with work and family and exercise and shovelling snow and doing the groceries that people too often put their relationships on the backburner." Here are a few of the secrets Orbuch gleaned from happy couples for making a good marriage great:



SONGYou and Me on the Rock by Brandi Carlile

BOOKWhat Makes a Marriage Last: 40 Celebrated Couples Share with Us the Secrets to a Happy Life by Marlo Thomas, Phil Donahue

POEM(S):  
New Vows by Sierra DeMulder

When my best friend got married,
he walked down the aisle to a song
about death. Isn’t that what marriage is
all about? he laughed. A promise
to be together until one of you dies?
I regret my wedding vows, too focused
on the benign—our boundless laughter,
how I cherish just waking up together.
I should have said, I take thee and all
the treachery that aliveness guarantees.
I should have said, I will help bury
your elders. I take your hand and your heart 
murmur; the cancerous growth above
your father’s ear. I take your family
history of alcoholism and give you back
a possible covenant of dementia, miscarriage, 
high blood pressure. In sickness and in
car accidents. In sickness and in the mundane. 
Shared calendars and anniversaries spent 
arguing about our budget. You told me once 
Great Danes have a short life expectancy, 
only 6-10 years if you’re lucky, and I cried: 
who would sign up to love something
so impermanent? O, beloved, we have
been so happy lately, it’s making us nervous. 
And isn’t that what marriage is all about:
a love so darling, so hallowed and exposed,
we both volunteer to be its keeper—when
the joy runs dry, when the body fails—
not because but in glorious spite of
the unpalatable, impossible fact that
someday one of us will wake up first
only to find ourselves alone.


Me First by Billy Collins

We often fly in the sky together,
and we’re always okay—there’s our luggage now
waiting for us on the carousel.

And we drive lots of places
in all manner of hectic traffic,
yet here we are pulling in the driveway again.

So many opportunities to die together,
but no meteor has hit our house,
no tornado has lifted us into its funnel.

The odds say then that one of us will go
before the other, like heading off
into a heavy snow storm, leaving

the other one behind to stand in the kitchen
or lie on the bed under the fan.
So why not let me, the older one, go first?

I don’t want to see you everywhere
as I wait for the snow to stop,
before setting out with a crooked stick, calling your name.


Habitation by Margaret Atwood

Marriage is not

a house or even a tent
it is before that, and colder:
the edge of the forest, the edge

of the desert

                the unpainted stairs

at the back where we squat

outside, eating popcorn
the edge of the receding glacier
where painfully and with wonder

at having survived even

this far
we are learning to make fire


Marriage by Ellen Bass

When you finally, after deep illness, lay
the length of your body on mine, isn’t it
like the strata of the earth, the pressure
of time on sand, mud, bits of shell, all
the years, uncountable wakings, sleepings,
sleepless nights, fights, ordinary mornings
talking about nothing, and the brief
fiery plummets, and the unselfconscious
silences of animals grazing, the moving
water, wind, ice that carries the minutes, leaves
behind minerals that bind the sediment into rock.
How to bear the weight, with every
flake of bone pressed in. Then, how to bear when
the weight is gone, the way a woman
whose neck has been coiled with brass
can no longer hold it up alone. Oh love,
it is balm, but also a seal. It binds us tight
as the fur of a rabbit to the rabbit.
When you strip it, grasping the edge
of the sliced skin, pulling the glossy membranes
apart, the body is warm and limp. If you could,
you’d climb inside that wet, slick skin
and carry it on your back. This is not
neat and white and lacy like a wedding,
not the bright effervescence of champagne
spilling over the throat of the bottle. This visceral
bloody union that is love, but
beyond love. Beyond charm and delight
the way you to yourself are past charm and delight.
This is the shucked meat of love, the alleys and broken
glass of love, the petals torn off the branches of love,
the dizzy hoarse cry, the stubborn hunger.

QUOTE(S):  “Marriage is not a noun; it’s a verb. It isn’t something you get. It’s something you do. It’s the way you love your partner every day.” ~ Barbara De Angelis

"Basically the secret to a long-lasting marriage is memory loss and well-meaning lies and beach margaritas." ~ Jenny Lawson

Monday, September 20, 2021

Steady As We Go (Dave Matthews Band)

Full disclosure:  The below is text that I've tweaked/adapted and posted, in some form or another, every year on my blog and/or Facebook.  Despite  my husband's ability to drive me crazy more often than not, he also drives me crazy in the good kinda way, which you will understand if you're able to machete through my missive below (sorry/not sorry it's so long!).

I love him dearly, and I can't imagine being with anyone else for a lifetime; he truly is My Person... 💓

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Tell the story of your marriage,” my young friend Niki says to me. “Write down how it is you have a happy marriage.” But the story of my marriage, which is the great joy and astonishment of my life, is too much like a fairy tale, the German kind, unsweetened by Disney.” ~ Ann Patchett, from her book of essays, The Story of a Happy Marriage

September 18, 2021 (this past Saturday) marked our 45th wedding anniversary.  It's been a long-standing joke of mine that, like the famous 12-step program, we do our marriage One Day at a Time (that would be 16,425 days, but who's counting?... 😃 )

Chico (given name Robert) and I met when he was a senior and I was a sophomore in college (Fall 1974).  One Sunday a group of my friends had been challenged to an impromptu football game by another group on campus, and I went along to watch. I was recruited to be one of the holders of the down-markers (two pointed brooms with string tied between).  Chico flirted with me all day, but saw me leaving with my "gang" and assumed I was dating one of them (I wasn't). The next day I was in my usual spot/routine in The Student Center, drinking coffee/reading a book/smoking cigarettes (gave up that bad habit when I found out I was pregnant with our daughter Sarah, over 38 years ago).  He came up, introduced himself to me and asked permission to sit down.

I was impressed by his good manners, among other things, and we were "an item" for the remainder of the year.  He graduated with a degree in Latin American Studies and got a job in Ft. Campbell, Kentucky with the Red Cross, counseling servicemen. I stayed to finish my degree and we carried on a long-distance relationship for the remaining two years, writing, calling, and visiting when we could.  The April of my senior year, during one of his visits, he asked me to marry him… and we rolled out of bed to call our parents to share the good news.  I graduated in June and we were married the following September.

An aside: During my last two years of school, I worked at a clothing boutique not far from the college.  I would walk there directly after classes, putting in about 30 hours a week and getting a 30% discount.  Chico and I had only been dating a few months when a beautiful dress came into the store.  I knew then I had to have it, whether to be married or buried (whichever came first) in such elegance, and I put it on layaway immediately. It was an off-white muslin with long, crocheted-lace sleeves and an empire bodice (very Guinevere-ish).  The big joke in my family is that, with my discount, I paid $28. When my wedding day was finally announced, my mom tried hard to talk me into something more traditional but I would not be swayed.  I still think it was the perfect dress… 💖

We stayed in our small college town for the next 8 years, moving temporarily to Atlanta en route to Puerto Rico for a company transfer (where we put in 4 1/2 years).  Back to Atlanta for almost three years and then to South Florida, where we've resided for the last 29. 

During the first twenty-five years of our marriage, Chico traveled quite a bit (twice a month, a week or more at a time). I've always been a strong and spirited soul and when the children were younger, we talked about the time he was away, not as better or worse but just different.  I belonged to AAA (although AA seemed more appropriate some days... 😉), I learned to fix small household items, I became responsible for my own entertainment.  When it had to be done, I did it. The worst were his two-week trips, when I didn't want to relax and appreciate having him home the weekend in-between, because it just meant giving him up again.  I learned various coping mechanisms, but I missed him.

Career moves found Chico home more, and the rest of us having to readjust, awkwardly at first, but happily.  He and I have always had separate interests (my music, his soccer), meeting in the middle more often than not for conversation, intimacy and intensity. 

My husband is of Brazilian descent and I am of Italian/Native American heritage... so emotions run high most of the time.  We pendulum between pondering what to name our wished-for houseboat when we retire... to me threatening to run away with the Renaissance Festival each February. 

My husband makes me crazy... and he makes me feel adored.  He is frustrating... and he is flattering. He is honest, even when I don't want to hear it... and I know I can trust his words and his actions (how many people in our lives can we say that about?!?).  He is intuitive, which is sometimes annoying but mostly a blessing. 

I wholeheartedly cherish our ongoing flare-ups, passions, commitment, disconnects, conversations, silences. It has never been easy; it has always been worthwhile.  As Brian Joseph sings in Cal’s Chevy:  “it ain’t easy… but it’s ours.”
I vowed that *happy* and *marriage* didn't have to be mutually exclusive.  My parents divorced after 29 years so I learned early on that one is never safe, and I try not to take it for granted.

Chico and I have made a conscious decision to stay together in this hectic and unsettling world (especially now during the pandemic). I crave and cherish my independence, but I don't worry any more that I'll have to "give in" (reminds me of a Dar Williams' song, In Love But Not at Peace: "I still need the beauty of words sung and spoken and I live with the fear that my spirit will be broken").  We seem to have forged a wonderful agreement where we both manage to get our own way a good bit of the time, but we haven't forgotten the art of the happy medium.

When we got married in 1976, a popular reading to include in weddings was “On Marriage” by Kahlil Gibran.  I loved it at the time, but even more so now.  The concept was, and remains, groundbreaking.  Remember these lines?

“You were born together, and together you shall be forevermore. 
You shall be together when the white wings of death scatter your days
Ay, you shall be together even in the silent memory of God
But let there be spaces in your togetherness
And let the winds of the heavens dance between you.
Love one another, but make not a bond of love:
Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls.
Fill each other's cup but drink not from one cup.
Give one another of your bread but eat not from the same loaf
Sing and dance together and be joyous, but let each one of you be alone,
Even as the strings of a lute are alone though they quiver with the same music.
Give your hearts, but not into each other's keeping.
For only the hand of Life can contain your hearts.
And stand together yet not too near together:
For the pillars of the temple stand apart,
And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other's shadow.”

I've spent the last few weeks re-evaluating what's kept us going these 4+ decades.  We have had just as many troubles as everyone else, but the risk is the reward, and the leap of faith is the longevity... and, to quote Jackson Browne, we just keep getting up and doing it again... amen... 🌅

I have always hated the term soulmate which, in my mind, used to conjure up images of Hallmark movies with couples joined-at-the-hip in that "you-complete-me" kinda way. Ugh. Many years ago, a dear friend (who is also a therapist) offered up her definition of soulmate:  someone who challenges you to be the best person you can be. Chico does that for me and, I'd like to think, I for him. We have "a head and a heart marriage" (a phrase I heard on a TV show recently). It suits us... ♥

When it comes to troubleshooting, I am in constant awe of Chico’s ability to stay calm, to let go and to move forward, in all aspects of his life.  His oft-repeated phrase is "let's not worry about how something got to be a problem; let's just figure out how to fix it". Wow.  With my tendency to finger-point, internalize and dramatize, he sets a wonderful example.

Chico loves me unconditionally, a status I am always trying to achieve but come up short.  I love him no less, but my family history includes strings attached, a very difficult pattern to break.

He is the calm to my storm, the ground to my clouds, the 33 1/3 to my 45, the waltz to my polka, the reason to my emotion, the carousel to my rollercoaster, the string to my kite, the balance to my spinning.  He supports but never suffocates, respects but never expects.

In an anniversary card one year, Chico thanked me for my enduring love and patience with his failings.  I can say the same.

Ups and downs, ins and outs, betters and worses go with the territory.  We've lived to tell about it ("fairy tales and diaper pails" indeed, as Amy Rigby sings).  My marriage has endured for many reasons (one of which is just good old-fashioned luck).  Cheers to the two of us for our perseverance, patience and passion with each other.  Tomorrow is another day!

SONGSteady As We Go by Dave Matthews Band (thanks to Sarah for sending this "just a love song" in our direction... 💕 )


for Willem

My love,
you are water upon water
upon water until it turns
azure, mountainous.

The horizon fills like sand
between glass marbles. So much
has passed between us—

last night you told me
to press your hand
harder and harder as I pained.

The sunset was at its last
embers. The dark was stealing
the blue light from our room.

I was falling into you.

~ ~

Compress water and it turns to ice— compress beauty
and it loses breath. Gaze at it too long, and even the wide
mirror of the ocean will shatter.

~ ~

My Willem,
between us, God has descended in all His atoms.
We have not yet learned to hold Him.

QUOTE:  "Wasn’t marriage, like life, unstimulating and unprofitable and somewhat empty when *too* well-ordered and protected and guarded. Wasn’t it finer, more splendid, more nourishing when it was, like life itself, a mixture of the sordid and the magnificent; of mud and stars; of earth and flowers; of love and hate and laughter and tears and ugliness and beauty and hurt." ~ Edna Ferber

Friday, October 9, 2020

A Little Bit of Everything (Dawes)

In my opinion, Kamala Harris kicked *ss in the best possible way in Wednesday night's Vice Presidential Debate!  She was prepared, articulate, firm but respectful.  I also loved her smirks and critical eyebrows (which were basically her substitute for giving Pence the finger, or yelling B*llshit!).  As a woman, I am so tired of the whole interrupting, lecturing, mansplaining thing.  It's so rude and minimizing.  "I am speaking".  She handled it/him very well.  Who uses the word existential in a political arena?  Kamala!  She brought me joy and compassion, as well as information, plus her voice is mellifluous... 😊  Best thing Biden did was bring her on the ticket.  Can't wait to have her as our next VP... 💗

I am trying to stay positive-speaking and -thinking, but... this (ha ha ha ha ha!) 

I've also been concentrating on three important aspects during this pandemic which keep me moving forward:  recognizing growth opportunities... controlling what I can... gratitude.  In addition to reading like a motherf*cker, my new (again) walking routine, and music, I have resurrected the habit of talking to special friends during the week, which goes a long-way toward radical self-care.  Two hours *each* with Linda, Michele, Melanie, and Laurie left me hoarse, with cauliflower ear, and so very refilled, rejuvenated, and refreshed (also a lovely in-person porch visit with Nance, and two dear Zoom sessions on Tuesday, both morning and evening).  As Dar sings, in Arrival:

My friends give me purple flowers and orange tea
On goosedown spilling quilts and turquoise chairs
We greet each other in a wild profusion of words
And wave farewell amidst the wonderment of air
And in the laughing times we know that we are lucky
And in the quiet times we know that we are blessed
And we will not be alone


Hey, I haven't offered up a Feel Good Friday post in a while.  As is tradition, five items below of beauty, interest, and humor to brighten your day/weekend/week.  Enjoy! 

A ‘Great Gatsby’ Quote Takes On New Resonance:  But the passage shared over the past few days by educators, writers and veterans of past presidential administrations came from an unlikely source: F. Scott Fitzgerald’s novel about greed and aspiration published nearly a century ago.
“They were careless people.  They smashed up things and creatures and then retreated back into their money or their vast carelessness, or whatever it was that kept them together, and let other people clean up the mess they had made.”

~ Don't Drink & Debate Smirnoff commercial


~ A fly that landed on Pence’s head for more than two minutes became a star on social media.  "A brief history of presidential politics and flies" from Morning Joe (thanks to Nance for the heads-up!).


~ Thanks to Michele for the heads-up on Last Tango in Halifax, which I am excited to begin watching (on Netflix).

~ Melanie sent me this recipe, which I am looking forward to trying.  Yum!




POEM:  
Everything Is Waiting For You by David Whyte

(after Derek Mahon)

Your great mistake is to act the drama
as if you were alone.  As if life
were a progressive and cunning crime
with no witness to the tiny hidden
transgressions.  To feel abandoned is to deny
the intimacy of your surroundings.  Surely,
even you, at times, have felt the grand array;
the swelling presence, and the chorus, crowding
out your solo voice.  You must note
the way the soap dish enables you,
or the window latch grants you freedom.
Alertness is the hidden discipline of familiarity.
The stairs are your mentor of things
to come, the doors have always been there
to frighten you and invite you,
and the tiny speaker in the phone
is your dream-ladder to divinity.

Put down the weight of your aloneness and ease into
the conversation.  The kettle is singing
even as it pours you a drink, the cooking pots
have left their arrogant aloofness and
seen the good in you at last.  All the birds
and creatures of the world are unutterably
themselves.  Everything is waiting for you.

QUOTE:  "To be called ruthless a man must be Joe McCarthy, a woman just has to put you on hold." ~ Marlo Thomas

Monday, November 19, 2007

An Attitude of Gratitude (Jimmy Buffett)

Thanksgiving is almost upon us (zippity!) - it is my favorite holiday, for the sheer non-commerciality/no-agenda-ness of it. As much as I love Christmas, the retail industry has pushed it up so far as to completely overwhelm the month of November and all its lovely attributes and offerings - let's enjoy the present, the here-and-now, before we rush right through to the next holiday, month or celebration.


I always make the turkey, gravy, mashed potatoes (one year I made wild rice instead and, to hear my family tell it, you would have thought I'd ordered them to take off their clothes at the dinner table and worship Satan!), green bean casserole (yes, with mushroom soup/onion rings), creamed onions (my mom's recipe), corn, squash casserole, baby carrots with dill, crescent rolls, a pumpkin pie, an apple pie, chocolate cake... and of course massive amounts of wine, red and white. Our friends Buck and Kathy are coming for dinner - they've been assigned the sweet potato casserole, a dish my husband loves but, since I don't, I never make it...

I adore bringing out the Thanksgiving tablecloth in shades of rust, forest green and brown, and the cloth napkins (with assorted napkin holders) that blend with the color scheme - my silk fall leaves in an earthenware pitcher, along with cinnamon candles in the fruit candle rings, will make a lovely holiday table. One of the best parts of this celebration to me is that before we actually lift our forks, we hold hands and, going around the table, everyone is encouraged to share what they are thankful for - as much as my family professes to be embarrassed by this tradition, they always come up with something wonderful to say, and it is a heartwarming and teary moment.

So... I got all of my laundry done today, will do my food shopping tomorrow and clean house on Wednesday - Thursday is reserved for cooking, eating and bonding (did I say I love Thanksgiving?... :-)

to the Sun & the Earth
for this bread & this wine,
this fruit, this meat, this salt,
this food;
thanks be & blessing to them
who prepare it, who serve it;
thanks & blessings to them
who share it
(& also the absent & the dead).
Thanks & Blessing to them who bring it
(may they not want),
to them who plant & tend it,
harvest & gather it
(may they not want);
thanks & blessing to them who work
& blessing to them who cannot;
may they not want - for their hunger
sours the wine & robs
the taste from the salt.
Thanks be for the sustenance & strength
for our dance & work of justice, of peace.

QUOTE: "Grace isn't a little prayer you chant before receiving a meal. It's a way to live." ~ Jackie Windspear

Tuesday, November 13, 2007

Family (Pierce Pettis... and covered by Dar Williams)

I am not yet at the point where I am able to speak much about this past weekend - for now, suffice it to say it pendulumed between tragic and magic, with everything in between.

I will share one snippet though - at one point, I was looking at a posterboard of photos that my sister-in-law had made for the funeral home viewing... and there was one picture that literally made me gasp. It was of my father-in-law, probably in his early 20's, standing in front of a plane in his pilot's uniform (during World War II) - were it not for the fact it was obviously taken decades ago, his face could very well have been that of my son Eric, now 19. My sister-in-law's husband laughed at me: "you obviously don't believe in genetics, do you?" - I guess I'd always seen the obvious ("sledgehammer genetics", I told him... :-) of myself and my daughter, my husband and his father... but I could not recall another incident that so subtly blindsided me... and was so comforting in the epiphany...



POEM: Family Reunion by Jeredith Merrin

The divorced mother and her divorcing
daughter. The about-to-be ex-son-in-law
and the ex-husband's adopted son.
The divorcing daughter's child, who is

the step-nephew of the ex-husband's
adopted son. Everyone cordial:
the ex-husband's second wife
friendly to the first wife, warm

to the divorcing daughter's child's
great-grandmother, who was herself
long ago divorced. Everyone
grown used to the idea of divorce.

Almost everyone has separated
from the landscape of a childhood.
Collections of people in cities
are divorced from clean air and stars.

Toddlers in day care are parted
from working parents, schoolchildren
from the assumption of unbloodied
daylong safety. Old people die apart

from all they've gathered over time,
and in strange beds. Adults
grow estranged from a God
evidently divorced from History;

most are cut off from their own
histories, each of which waits
like a child left at day care.
What if you turned back for a moment

and put your arms around yours?
Yes, you might be late for work;
no, your history doesn't smell sweet
like a toddler's head. But look

at those small round wrists,
that short-legged, comical walk.
Caress your history--who else will?
Promise to come back later.

Pay attention when it asks you
simple questions: Where are we going?
Is it scary? What happened? Can
I have more now? Who is that?

QUOTE: "We all grow up with the weight of history on us. Our ancestors dwell in the attics of our brains as they do in the spiraling chains of knowledge hidden in every cell of our bodies." ~ Shirley Abbott