The Break-Up

In the last few months, three couples we know have separated. One sounds like a classic (cliched) male mid-life crisis; another is the sad result of increasing disharmony and emotional distance; another is an equally sad combination of bipolar disorder and the mid-life thing. I was a bridesmaid at one of the weddings; Spouse was MC at another.

These were couples who were already together, in one case already married, by the time Spouse and I got together almost 16 years ago. They all have children.

It's sad and strange. We get accustomed to identifying people together, as a couple, as a family. Who do you stay in touch with? Do you still send Christmas cards? Will it ever be ok to invite them both to the same function?

I also wonder - what was the tipping point? I don't believe anyone who says that they're always happy in their relationship; I'm sure everyone has moments of dissatisfaction, boredom or even intense unhappiness. But once you've been together a while, when things are rocky, it's easier to think - this too shall pass. Is it that you no longer believe the bad times will pass? Is it that the bad times happen too often and last for too long? Is it when the pros of staying no longer outweigh the cons of going?

My parents divorced when I was aged somewhere between Kid 1 and Kid 2's current ages (10 and almost 14). I can't even remember exactly when it was. As a precocious (and obnoxious) teenager I was quite flippant about it. Divorce was almost fashionable, and I thought it was a good thing. I couldn't remember my parents happy together.

It is probably salient that I am reading Siri Hustvedt's The Summer Without Men.

Someone needs to get engaged or married to cheer me up. No, witless Royals don't count. 

The Constant Gardener

Monday, hot on the heels of Love Day, was our wedding anniversary. I had a photobook of our NY snaps and blogs made up for spouse; spouse gave me a rather nice handbag (dangerous territory well navigated).

Monday is not a great night for going out as all the good restaurants are closed. So - surprise, surprise - I cooked. Unfortunately it was also a deadline day, so I had to hurriedly make creme brulee and confit some duck in my lunch break. Seriously. I'm all for Slow Food, but usually my life won't slow down for me. Especially on a Monday. So I did Fast Slow French Food.

This was the menu (and here was me all surprised that I'd put on weight!):

Steak tartare with melba toast and all the accoutrements

Confit duck with roast potatoes and green salad

Creme brulee

All very slimming. Truly.

But back to the title of this post. When I was a child, I assumed it meant someone who was always gardening. Now I love the idea of constance, an old-fashioned virtue (like prudence). It's a little like commitment, but perhaps more patient and less ambitious ... And definitely something one needs in marriage.