The flight leaves at noon, and you need to backtrack to account for driving time, and for the two hours the airline recommends that you be at the airport—entirely too early, in my opinion. And we would have to be in the car and on the way by 9 am. I tried one more time to cajole my husband into coming with me.
“I’m sure there’s one more seat on the airplane,” I say.
And for good measure, I add, “I doubt you will ever wish you worked more, but you may wish you spent more time with your family.”
No go—he wasn’t budging. I knew I had better zip it or he would take my bag out of the trunk and leave me standing in the driveway.
Traveling is just one of the things I’ve done without my husband. Very early in our marriage, I decided that if he didn’t want to do something, that didn’t mean I couldn’t. I’ve gone to movies and the theater; I’ve completed many, many home improvement and renovation projects.
And then there are all the activities with the kids.
The kids and I spent hours and hours on the lake while my son perfected his wakeboarding. I still can’t fathom why my husband didn’t want to join us. He always said boating was just too much work. And when our son went off to college, my daughter and I spent every free moment at the horse stables. Again, my husband just wasn’t into hanging out and watching the girls ride around in circles.
Now, after 27 years of marriage, I’ve just had an ah-ha moment. I don’t think of any of those things as work. It’s true … going boating takes hours before and after the time spent on the water. But that time in the middle—with the wind in my hair, the sun on my face, and laughing with the kids as they bobbed around in the water—to me, that wasn’t work.
The same goes for the horse stables. The riding part is just a fraction of the time spent. First, there’s the mucking, the grooming, and the tacking. And then after the ride, you do it all in reverse. Would I call that work? No, I would not! And now that those days are behind me, I miss them very much. Nothing else has that view and the smell of the grass, the leather, and the horses.
But as it turns out, I’m in the minority with my opinion of what classifies as work or not. Trying to prove myself correct … as if that would somehow convince my husband to change his mind and accompany me … I conducted a very unscientific poll and interviewed a few friends.
NOBODY AGREED WITH ME!
Basically, my friends thought there might be a little fun to be had at the lake or the stables, but nobody thought that building a pergola or resodding the yard could be classified as anything but work.
Now that the kids are no longer at home, I haven’t gone boating or to the stables in ages. What I have done is create lists: I have a list for projects inside the house. Another list for projects outside the house. And yet another list for places I’d like to travel. To me the lists are fun, fun, fun! I bet you can guess that my husband has another word for them.
Well, I just got off the phone. I made it to my destination safely and wanted to check in. What would he do for three days without me, I wondered.
“Nothing,” he said.
He would enjoy not having to hear about my lists or my clever (my word) positive affirmations and enjoy being … home alone.