He followed the two women packers around after I’d briefed them and went through the whole list with them again. They were annoyed. He hovered over the furniture movers making sure they didn’t scratch anything and that they properly loaded the van. They humored him. The carpet layers were questioned on technique. They seemed to enjoy taking a break to talk. In the meantime, he was reviewing the schedule with me to make sure nothing had changed. I was a wreck by the time it was over. I felt like he didn’t trust me to handle things I had been taking care of for years. I wondered if, over time, I would become less competent, less confident because of his need to oversee. In hindsight I realize that he was still finding his way in retirement, and his natural leadership tendencies dictated that he should take charge of this job.
Weldon discovered I had a PayPal account and decided he would use it to make a purchase. In the process, Weldon changed the PayPal password because he thought it wasn’t secure enough, and instead of using the credit card number I had set up, he used our bank account, because he was afraid our credit card number could be compromised. I was upset. He should have consulted me. I’m the CPA in the family, the financial person. “Weldon,” I said, “we are more protected using the credit card; we will have recourse if there’s a problem. If someone gets access and cleans out our bank account, it will be more difficult and time-consuming to recover the money.”
Before Weldon retired I did my own housecleaning. I like to clean; we have a small downtown Seattle condominium, and the exercise is good for me. I loved my system. After Weldon left for the university, I tended to my home until 9 a.m., then went to my office to write. It worked beautifully. By the end of the week, every room had been cleaned. But now Weldon was home and he didn’t always finish in the bathroom in time for me to clean out the sink or he was working in our study and I couldn’t vacuum. I was unsettled, and the house wasn’t clean. Finally, I hired a housekeeper. Weldon doesn’t like having to vacate the house for four hours every two weeks, but I’m feeling a lot better.
There were times when I wondered if we should buy a second condo and live separately. Divorce flitted across my mind once or twice. I would think, I don’t know this man. How is it I never noticed these traits before, this excessive interest in everything I do, this compulsion to help me when I don’t need or want assistance? When will I get some time to myself?
I began to spend more time away from home. My houseplants wilted. I simplified my menus. I quit doing any housework.
I know women who can smile sweetly at their husbands and deflect interference with murmurings and soothings. I’m not like that. I’m more likely to make a biting comment or bristle at suggestions. Then my husband vows he will never offer another idea. That vow lasts a few hours. He can’t help himself. Weldon is a problem solver and he’s always on alert for ways to use this talent. One morning he proposed a better way to arrange my shoes in the closet. Another day he instructed me on where to place the dirty knives in the dishwasher.
Four years seems like a long time to adjust to a changed living arrangement but while complaining to my friend Susan, whose husband retired seven years after she did, she acknowledged she was still working through togetherness issues. “I know,” she said, “I have the same problems. Greg is constantly reminding me of things I always do. Silly things like when we come back from walking the dog, he always tells me to punch in the code for the alarm system. I did that by myself for years. But I’ve decided to save my complaints for important issues. When he interferes on the little stuff, I just laugh. Usually he laughs too and goes away.”
I don’t have my friend’s patience.
But I knew I was married to a good man. I knew I was lucky to have him in my life. I thought back to when we first married. I remember being surprised that Weldon rarely got mad at me. He told me there are a lot of issues in a relationship that are not worth getting angry over. It was an important lesson for me. Over time, I realized my husband tended to mirror my attitude. If I got cranky, he got cranky back. If I was in a good mood, so was he.
So I felt responsible. I understood that I had great power to affect the tenor of our relationship but where to begin? I thought about finding a therapist, but I didn’t have the energy and I didn’t want to add another appointment to my weekly schedule.
About Susan Knox
