Early on in our marriage when I was a student at BYU in Provo Utah, Rosie and I learned to iron out the wrinkles in our relationship with what she came to call YOU BUG ME Sessions.
There have never been any written rules but, in love, we could share our "This is how I feel about what you're doing" Anything seemed to be allowed. I could raise my voice (sometimes more than just a bit) She could cry. We tried holding hands during our exchanges as one psychologist suggested and that did a lot to increase our love. It also allowed me to lower my voice some. Tears seemed to be a bonus, especially mine.
Nowdays, with me constantly underfoot in retirement in her house (isn't it always her house?) these little levelings come spontaneously, and, it seems, a little more often.
I really haven't kept track, but as I charged downstairs to cool off, I shouted back up the stairs, "Count this as YOU BUG ME session number 5,280. We've only been married 37 years (since 1973) That works out to about 2.7 YOU BUG ME Sessions a week for each of the 1,924 weeks we've lived under the same roof together. Maybe that's a little much. We've only held these informal courts of appeal every couple of weeks.
What makes it work is that later in the same day, before we pray, we return to civility. Sometimes we even kiss and make up.
Good luck to you if this little bit of shared experience helps you, Grampa.
Remember we make our own luck. Remember too that I'm no psychologist. I have no shingle to hang, no professional advice to give. I'm just trying to be a funny guy with something funny to share. Wisdom goes down a little easier if it's mixed with a little humor. JRH
See Grandpa and Grampa Lizard
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