Friday, June 1, 2007

Savoring the historical D

I married well. Conversation getting into our car, having just finished dinner out at a local restaurant:

D: Have you ever thought that you're living part of life just to get to something else?

K: [with intensity] I used to.

D: No, I just looked at the name of that store: "Fast Braces" and it occurs to me how I used to think I just needed to get the braces paid for, for each of the children, then I'd ... whatever--then I'd have the money, or then be able to do something else.

K: Yeah. OK. I thought you meant that in a different way probably.

D: No, I probably did mean it in the way you're thinking.

K: Oh. Well, I always think of that part in Ruben Habito's book where he talks about going to work in order to pay the bills, then coming home in order to eat, then cleaning the dishes in order to use them again, then going into the living room to watch television and go to bed, all in order to get up again the next morning, to go to work in order to pay the bills, then coming home in order to eat...It's a nightmare scenario to me. Never living in the present moment.

D: Yes. Exactly.

I can't remember what came after that, but it was a great conversation. He's deep and thoughtful, and I love that. It's interesting to me that D has an historian's orientation to life. Before I met him I'm not sure that I ever quite considered it, and I'm still not sure that I "get" it. For D, it seems to be more than simply filtering everything through his vast historical knowledge base. It's more along the lines of savoring his own experience, his own history, such that it is more meaningful to him than my history is meaningful to me. Not sure....something like that.

Anyway, the conversation led me to mention something else later. Since I've been so sick this spring, I've thought quite a bit about how old I'm getting, how I don't have all that much longer to live in the present moment (or not in the present moment). D said he's been thinking the same thing, brought on by turning 50 last year, no doubt.

The conversation continued. We decided we were too tired to go to a movie. So we came home and are now happily ensconsed in our bedroom--in contented silence with each other, and with our cute little laptop computers, of course. Ah, what bliss!

1 comment:

Jan said...

Katherine, sounds lovely. I envy your marital conversations. Chuck doesn't like to talk much. We've been married since 1971, so we've weathered various ups and pits of our life together. Still, I wish we'd have one or two conversations like yours.