Almost one year ago I moved into Sprite’s home. I brought with me five suitcases of stuff, and a lot of unsorted baggage in my heart and in my head.

We now live together in our new home that we moved into several months ago and plan to be married in our garden late next month.

It’s been an intense year of getting to know each other, and yet seems like a very short year of enjoying each other’s company.

I am always certain that I know how to live and that my way is the best way.

Sprite lived on her own for seven years and she too felt that she knew how to live the best way for herself which makes sense since she didn’t have to accommodate anyone else.

She ran her own company.  I ran mine.

So although we began our relationship with no clash in underlying values, there were differences in the details.  Sprite preferred to be in bed by 9:00 pm and she awoke before dawn.  I was accustomed to going to sleep after 11:00 pm and waking after 7:00 am.  She was used to spending a lot of quality time with her significant other, which was different than the way I had lived for the past many years.

What to do?

We both decided to be flexible and willing to try everything a different way, unless it involved eating raw oysters (which I detest).

Fortunately Sprite doesn’t like raw oysters either, so there was no issue there.

As for my trying to do things her way, my ego would say that it didn’t turn out too badly.  My rational mind says that it turned out quite well. We have each benefited from one another’s strengths. Sprite has valuable ideas for my blogs.  I help her to better understand money and investment because she wants to learn more about those subjects.

Sprite is better at organizing than I am.  She arranged our closet so that it’s easy for me to be neat.  Of course, I am delighted when she occasionally leaves her boots outside of the neat closet because I feel more relaxed living with someone who doesn’t also need to be perfect.  I certainly don’t want to have to be perfect, at least not according to anyone else’s rules.

Sprite loves to cook and does it almost every day. While, out of health concerns, I never added salt to food, she does (along with a lot of lemon juice) and I find her cooking delicious. Her breakfasts and dinners are healthy, inspired, and a joy to look forward to.  I relish our Sunday morning treks to the local farmer’s market where we buy most of our food.  This has been a totally new experience for me.

What I have discovered in our year of getting to know one another better is this:

1. There is no “right” or “wrong” way to live. There are only “different” ways.
2. Something different might be better.
3. Many of Sprite’s preferences work better for me than my own.

And yes, we have each lost some “battles,” Sprite sometimes goes to bed later than she is used to and often skips her usual morning workout just to stay in bed with me.  But both Sprite and I have won the peace together.

Cheers to our February wedding, where my 102-year-old father will be our best man.

Alan

We all have a lot to worry about.  The future is uncertain.  None of us know if we’ll survive until dinner, let alone dance at our five-year-old daughter’s wedding.

Since we all worry, the only question worth asking ourselves is, “How much worry is too much?”

Sprite and I recently enjoyed the Spielberg movie “Bridge of Spies” while we were on a cruise (we highly recommended the Viking Star).  In this excellent film Tom Hanks portrays James Donovan, an attorney defending Rudolph Abel, who has been called “the most famous Soviet spy of all time.”

In one memorable scene Donovan says to Abel, “Do you understand that if you’re convicted you could be executed.”

“I understand.”

“You don’t seem alarmed.”

Abel pauses, then shrugs, “Would it help?”

Abel, portrayed by Mark Rylance, said it better than I ever could.  “Would it help?”

I have managed a business for more than fifty years, and I have run my life for seventy-six.  Something goes “wrong” every single day.  I am certain that something will go wrong tomorrow. I just don’t know what it is yet.

When I was young I realized one morning that I worried almost all of the time. In a flash of insight I suddenly realized that worrying was, at best, unpleasant and, at worst, draining away my life. In that moment I made a life-long decision to deal with my problems differently.

Now, when I start to worry I immediately ask myself if there is something I can do right now to change the outcome of whatever it is I’m worried about.  If my answer is “yes,” I start doing it.  If my answer is “no,” I stop worrying.

It’s simple, although it does takes practice – years of practice. But the practice is worth it.

Some of us seem to believe, as I did, that worry alone will somehow make life better or help me avoid misfortune. Maybe we think that, if we worry, the Gods will somehow solve our problems. But agony isn’t fun.  I’d rather forget about my problems and enjoy a football game or a salad.

So next time you feel yourself starting to worry, give it a try.  Either immediately start to do something about the problem, or stop stewing and move on to something more enjoyable.

Maybe I’ll worry, and do something about it, tomorrow.  Right now I’m headed to a lasagna dinner and watching a playoff football game.

Alan

In my first blog of 2017 I’d like to suggest a simple way of connecting with those you love, as well as those you like.

As soon as both of you are awake in the morning, turn over in bed and say, “I love you.”   If no one is there, a text saying “I love you” will do.

If you aren’t currently in a love relationship, then “I like you,” “I really like you,” or “You’re special to me,” by text, telephone, or in person will be fine.

I’d like to share a few more thoughts on this:

1. Many guys seldom say, “I love you.” One friend of mine, Gail, told me that in twenty years of marriage her husband only said “I love you” four times.  I’m sure she was waiting for more.  Guys, you’re simply going to have to retrain, not restrain, yourselves.  I promise it won’t hurt you, and may help your relationship a lot.
2. Many people believe that the word “love” is the equivalent of “sex,” and is somehow awkward or embarrassing. Yet parents say “I love you” to their children all the time, and children, even adult children, say it right back to their parents or siblings.  There is nothing shameful or wrong in connecting with a human being you care for by saying, “I love you.”
3. Many of us unconsciously think of the word “love” as a trap. You only have to listen to a few love ballads before you realize that “I love you” can be code for “You owe me something,” or “I’m neurotic and I’m only saying that to hear the same thing back from you to reassure me.”  Keep the word “love” pure in your own mind and heart.  Love is a gift, not a piece of bait that conceals an invisible hook.
4. What if the object of your verbal affection rolls over in bed and sleepily mumbles, “Uh huh,” or doesn’t reply to your text? This is not a disaster. Please keep in mind that your purpose in saying “I love you” is simply to express your own feelings.  It should not designed to provoke a reciprocal reply.  Your words spring from the love you feel inside your own heart.
5. If you need reassurance then just ask for it. “Honey, I would really like to hear you say, ‘I love you,” in the morning.’”  And be sure to say “Thank you” when he or she does.

Human connection is what we live for.  The start of each waking day is the best time to connect.

Almost one year ago Sprite and I began living together.  On our very first morning she woke up before me and cooked breakfast.  Before I took a bite I started to cry.

“What’s the matter, Alan?”

It took me a few moments to compose myself.  “No one has cooked breakfast for me at home in more than thirty years.  I appreciate it.  Thank you.”

On that morning I don’t recall if either of us said the words “I love you”, but I’ll always remember the music of Sprite’s caring.

Saying or showing another human being “I love you” is a wonderful way to stay connected.

First thing each morning is an ideal time to begin.

Alan