Valentine Wishes

by Jean Marie Moffa
February 7, 2007

You would think I would have figured this out at the wallpaper: first year of marriage, first home improvement project, near divorce. Thirteen years later, and here we are, planning this spring's home improvement projects with little more relationship prowess than we had in our youth. How does this happen? What is it about these sorts of projects that brings out our elemental differences so profoundly?

We are no slouches, by the way. My husband and I have been through some challenging times together, over the years, and with sweat and tears and the stuff of devotion to one another, we've come through to the other side. There was my 75-hour labor, for example. If that doesn't test a couple's wherewithal, I don't know what does. A week at the hospice with my mother as she was dying--and the months leading up to and following her death--these were difficult, painful times. More job moves than I care to recall. Throw in a mid-life crisis, for good measure. We are tough, and dedicated, after all, and we have prevailed, emerging from each challenge stronger, and more unified.

But bring up moving the blue spruce in our front yard, and all rationality and togetherness disappear in record time, flat lining our communication skills so effectively that we'd be hard pressed to demonstrate enough cordiality to be friends, let alone spouses. Not a trace of common vision or understanding. Throw in the complexity of finishing a basement that is replete with an assortment of individual dreams, and you've got yourself a veritable standstill.

Together for ever and always? Of course. Help mate? Partner? Well, let's not get cocky.

Our friends Chris and Kristine, models of devotion and strength who have faced enormous challenges in their lives with grace and unwavering dedication, have fared no better, I might add, on their own home improvement projects. Bring up any of the dreaded words--bathroom, deck, and, God forbid, kitchen countertops--and you'll see the most steadfast of couples turn pale and silent.

My sister and brother-in-law, exemplary to us in their remarkable adaptability and union, can barely hang a picture together. Warmth, understanding, give and take? Forget about it. What is it about our homes and home-making that brings us to our relationships' knees?

My friend Paul, on the other hand, recently completed a seamlessly brilliant renovation of his condo. No problems whatsoever. His secret? He's single.

I know my mom and dad went through this dance. And I think they figured it out, over the years. As I recall, their solution went something like this: Mom called the final shots. Dad made it happen.

And you know what? I can wallpaper like a pro with my father-in-law. No issues. No grief. We know our roles, you see: I lead, he consults, supports and follows. We work so well together, in fact, that he knows what I need before I do. And there is goodness, I tell you, in this clarity. Not to mention a much more efficient and constructive use of our time and emotions....

Valentine's Day is upon us. It's always a treat for me, each year, to set aside a bit of time for celebrating and honoring love, itself. May yours be filled with goodness. And as for this spring's brewing home improvement plans? Good luck with that.