By Dave Vance
Editor’s note: Dave Vance is a former naval officer, trial lawyer, and Rutgers University professor who currently resides in Voorhees, New Jersey. He writes the “Occasional Column” for many newspaper across the country.
I recently lost my wife of many years and it has hollowed me out. I go through the motions of life without feeling alive. Nothing has meaning any more. Ice cream is just a lot of calories without someone to enjoy it with, not just anyone, but the love of my life.
My wife and I used to visit destination restaurants. The food was good, but the real joy was in the long rides in which I had my wife all to myself. On those rides we discussed everything.
As I reflect on our years together, I see her guiding hand in everything. I now understand that most important duty of every wife is to train her husband. My wife tempered my excesses and made me eat my peas. And she shaped me into the man I am today.
Through word and deed, she taught me the rules of a happy marriage: whatever she wants she gets; if you can afford it, have two bathrooms; the words that can save any relationship aren’t ‘I love you,’ but ‘I was wrong.’
Sometimes, the most important thing you can do for someone, be they a spouse or stranger, is to listen to what they have to say. Don’t judge, don’t offer advice, don’t comment, but just listen. And when there is a pause in the conversation, don’t take that as an opportunity to tell your story, use that pause to say, ‘Tell me more.” The simple act of listening will do wonders for the speaker as well as for the relationship.
My wife trained me to put out the trash, run the dishwasher and move the laundry from the washer to the dryer without being asked. I have always done the grocery shopping because I thought I was better at it. But on reflection, maybe she just made me feel like I was better at it. I have always cleaned off the table after every meal and wiped down the counters. Frankly, I can’t recall how she slipped me into that role, but it seemed to work for us.
My wife’s legacy includes a bus load of people who loved her and a clean, used husband. Someday, if I get over this hollowed out feeling, maybe I will be a good husband for someone else. Who knows. Tomorrow is promised to no one.
