At least once a week, summer and winter, Judy and I run to (or by) the old pumphouse in Springbank Park. A comfortable 6.5 km from our house on London’s trail system along the Thames River, “running to the pumphouse” is the minimum distance we can run and still call it a “long run” during the off-season when we aren’t training for a marathon. On a really long run, which will take us through Byron and beyond for 30 km or more, the pumphouse with its washrooms and water fountains serves as a convenient pit-stop. Psychologically, we often get through our long runs by running to the next water station.
The pumphouse was erected in 1878 to supply drinking water to the city of London. Water was collected from nearby springs and raised to a reservoir at the top of the hill above Springbank Park, from whence it flowed by gravity into the city’s distribution system. The pumphouse served this purpose until 1967, at which time the city began to draw its drinking water from Lake Huron via a pipeline. Today, in addition to serving as a rest station for runners, cyclists and walkers and a storage facility for the city’s Parks and Recreation department, the walls of the building memorialize those who have lingered there long enough to etch their names or initials in the soft yellow brick. ST and PL. Cari and Steve. Ciara and Kevin. EM and BM. Nick and Michelle. DH and PH. Duane and Nicole. And so many more, some almost illegible.
I sometimes wonder what happened to Duane and Nicole. They loved each other enough in 1987 (or thought they did) to carve their names on this wall and scratch “D” and “N” inside the tiny heart below their names. Did that love eventually lead them to pledge their fidelity in marriage? And if so, are they still together today, 32 years later? And to what would they attribute the success of their relationship—if staying together can ever be equated with success, because sometimes it isn’t. Judy and I will have been married for 39 years in September. How is it that we have managed to stay together? Our relationship faced challenges from the very beginning. Our courtship was very brief—only four months and a long-distance relationship at that— such that we didn’t truly get to know each other until we were living together and sharing a bed. As first-borns, neither of us were accustomed to our desires to anyone else’s needs.
Now that we’re an old married couple, we’ve settled into a comfortable relationship with each other, but it wasn’t always so. The first 10 years, in particular, were marked with vicious arguments (and great make-up sex). Our marriage struggled under the concurrent strains of parenting three young children, chronic financial problems, and leadership roles in the church that carried expectations of how we should relate to each other as husband and wife. Looking back on those years, we’re surprised that we managed to stay together. Some of our closest friends have divorced, and we know that the reasons marriages fail are many and complex. We have never considered ourselves to be a model for other married couples, but Judy and I offer these reflections on how to stay together in the hope that some will find them helpful, and if not, at least entertaining to read.
- Learn the art of compromise (Ed). When we were first married, I subscribed to a view of marriage that would describe Judy and I each as incomplete parts of a whole. The idea, then, is that we would complete each other by making up for one another’s deficiencies and accentuating one another’s strengths. Now, I’d rather describe our relationship as a partnership between two whole and unique individuals. The result is—as much as we love each other, enjoy each other’s company, and share many interests in common—that we’ve needed to learn how to reach compromises. We’ve compromised on big things like career decisions and our expression of physical intimacy and lesser matters like TV-viewing patterns and how we approach cleaning up the kitchen after meal prep. Compromise requires the willingness of each partner to acknowledge and fight for the other’s right to maintain their identity, while choosing to relinquish those things that are not part of their own core needs. It’s the Canadian way: compromise is how Canada’s two solitudes have managed to co-exist for 152 years. As Dr. John Gottmann says, “Compromise never feels perfect. Everyone gains something and everyone loses something. The important thing is feeling understood, respected, and honored in your dreams.”
Compromise requires each partner to acknowledge and fight for the other’s right to maintain their identity, while choosing to relinquish those things that are not part of their own core needs.
- Take time out for each other (Judy). When our children were young, we would often take time out together and make sure that our relationship was prioritized. It was difficult to follow through with this priority at times but it did make our friendship stronger. We were fortunate to having family living close-by but other times this meant driving 400 miles to Manitoulin Island to leave our children with their grandparents for a week. Even today we make it a point to regularly walk down to the local coffee shop to spend time with each other outside of our normal routines. I think Ann Voskamp has said it perfectly: “Marriage is never an accomplishment to be proud of but a miracle to give thanks for.”
- Allow for the possibility of change in your partner (Ed). Two expressions that should be banned from communication within a relationship are “You always” and “You never”. As someone has said, when you use these words “you are painting an entire wall with one stroke of the brush.” Healthy people—and healthy relationships—grow and evolve over time. We often hear “he’s not the person I married” spoken as an indictment of a partner, but I am thankful that Judy is not the person I married 39 years ago. She has grown immensely in confidence, courage and self-actualization. And in other ways as well. Her discovery—18 years ago (and I followed a year later)—of the freedom and fulfillment to be found in running has enhanced her physical and emotional well-being and introduced her to an affirming and inclusive new community. I didn’t know she had it in her, but I am inspired by what she has become.
- Deal with problems as a team (Judy). Ed and I have learned to work as a team and deal with problems and issues as a team. To work as a team, you sometimes need to let go of your own wants, knowing that the best solution is the one that will be the best for both of us. Talking things through in a thorough way while dealing with team issues is not always pleasurable, but there are rewards to be found at the end if you stick with the process. Tolerating each other’s weaknesses can be difficult, but I know Ed has my back and I have his. We’ve both learned when to say difficult things in a respectful way, and when not to say things. Leaving one or two things unsaid every day helps build a strong relationship.
I’m going to make a trip down to the pumphouse someday soon, and stick a nail in my pocket so I can carve “Ed+Judy 2019” on the wall. I think we’ll stay together. Check in with me in 20 years and I’ll let you know.
Text and photos © 2019 Ed Wilson
