Note: Above is my very first attempt at adding an audio version to my post! It’s my voice (except for one “special” guest), and it’s not perfect, but I think it does the trick. If you’re the type of person who would rather listen to a post than spend time reading it, this is for you! Please let me know in the comments if you listen and what you think!
We’ve just begun the second summer of our Grand Marriage Experiment. Mind you, it didn’t start as a marriage experiment.
It started as a dream come true—the dream of owning a cabin on a lake in Minnesota. We had pictured the scene for years during our two-week summer vacations Up North. And like a pot that simmers on the stove before suddenly boiling over, the dream became a reality in two days’ time. It happened so fast, we had no chance to consider what it might mean for our immediate future.
“Living the dream” has come with its challenges. Not only have we put in a ton of work bringing our “as-is” cabin up to its wonderful potential, but we’ve also had to adjust to living apart.
We’re a “typical” (if there is such a thing) married couple who’ve spent most of our non-work time together. Aside from an occasional work conference, my “sister weekends” (time spent crafting with my sisters, 4-5 times a year), or church retreats that only involved one or the other of us, we’re usually together, at home in Michigan.
But those dynamics have changed.
We bought the cabin (about a 13-hour drive from our home in Michigan) in August of 2022. Since then, I’ve spent a good chunk of my summers here. Last year, I spent over 12 weeks at the cabin, and this summer, I’m planning for at least 15.
Tom plans to retire in a couple of years, so until then, he saves up as many vacation days as possible, plus works one day a week from the cabin when he’s there, to maximize his time Up North. This summer, he’ll spend about seven weeks living the dream.
These temporary “separations”, our Grand Marriage Experiment, have already taught us a few things about our marriage and ourselves.
First, we’ve learned that we both want limits. Two weeks is the longest we want to be apart. This summer, we plan to have only three two-week separations, and in July, we’ll be together—either at home or at the lake—for five weeks straight. It takes a good spreadsheet and calendar, but we have a plan!
We’ve also learned that absence truly does make the heart grow fonder. In our marriage, there is a sharing of responsibilities we’ve gotten used to. When I’m alone at the cabin, I miss Tom’s strong arms ready to help me haul suitcases or groceries from the car. I miss all the chores he does around the house and yard. I miss the way he spoils me by bringing me coffee every morning. I miss his company and our ritual of three goodnight kisses.
Although I’m capable of making coffee and hauling in groceries and have even learned how to use power tools during my cabin stays, I do miss his help. He’s also able to carry on alone but likes to have me around for my cooking, bookkeeping, calendar-updating, and life-organizing skills (and those goodnight kisses 😘).
We compare our daily Wordle, Connections, and Strands1 results, watch a movie or show now and then, and look forward to regular date nights.
So yes, it’s good to be together. And absence certainly has made our hearts grow fonder.
But being together isn’t perfect. It’s all hugs and kisses and “I missed you!” for about a day, and then it’s like we were never apart. Except that we were.
We’ve both experienced aspects of living alone that are, to be honest, quite enjoyable. When we’re on our own, we have complete freedom to eat, sleep, snack, shower, and do what we want, when we want. We have absolute solitude for uninterrupted reading, writing, puzzling, or show-watching, with no need to worry about bothering the other person with our talking and entertainment, or if they will bother us.
Both Tom and I have introverted tendencies. We often crave solitude and were starved of it during our parenting years. Now we consume it in small—and sometimes large—helpings.
So if absence makes the heart grow fonder, what does presence do for our relationship? Does it make us long for absence?
In pondering this question I remembered the Grinch. (Yes, the Grinch Who Stole Christmas is invading my summer thoughts.) The Grinch was (or thought he was) perfectly happy being alone (except for his dog Max) in his mountaintop lair. Here’s how he kept himself company:
Grinch: I have all the company I need right here. Helloooo!
Echo: Hello-hello-hello
Grinch: How are you?
Echo: How are you?- How are you?
Grinch: I asked you first.
Echo: I asked you first.- I asked you first.
Grinch: Oh really mature, saying exactly what I say.
Echo: Oh really mature, saying exactly what I say.
Grinch: I'M AN IDIOT!
Echo: YOU'RE AN IDIOT!- You're an idiot!
(Howard, Ron. 2000. How the Grinch Stole Christmas. United States: Universal Pictures.)
After this little conversation with his echo, the Grinch then breaks a glass bottle, stuffs the broken glass in his mouth, and crunching it between his rotting teeth, says a line I can relate to: “Am I just eating because I’m bored?” lt’s pretty obvious the Grinch is missing something in his “perfectly happy”, solitary life.
In her new book, The Way of Belonging: Reimagining Who We Are and How We Relate, my friend Sarah E. Westfall, puts it like this. She points out that in many celebrity memoirs she’s read, the celebrity, after much struggle, comes to realize the “gaping hole” in their lives.
They figure out eventually that “life is not about what you can get but what you can give. Only then do [they] begin to find contentment.” Throughout her book, Sarah teaches us that belonging is a two-way street.
This is what the Grinch learned when he joined the Whos down in Whoville. When he realized he had been missing out on relationships with others his heart grew three sizes. And that’s it! Absence makes the heart grow fonder, but presence makes the heart grow bigger!
Our hearts expand to include others and their wants and needs.
When we’re with others—our spouses, loved ones, neighbors, and even strangers—we can no longer live only for ourselves, to satisfy our own desires. Instead, we give and receive. We pour out and drink up. We love and are loved.
A Grand Marriage Experiment like ours might not be possible (or desired!) in your life. But if you have even small doses of absence and presence, pay attention. Notice what you’re receiving. And what you’re giving.
And know that both are essential for a happy marriage, a full life, and a big heart. ❤️
Wordle, Connections, and Strands are three New York Times games we both play daily.
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Thank you, Linda for the great reminder! I loved hearing your voice.
This is so sweet - it really does sound like living the dream!