When I returned to my childhood church, he struggled -- just like I struggled when he gave up all attempts at spirituality around the same time. But we made it work.
The secret to staying together is staying together, but more than that it is caring enough to see the world through someone else's eyes and saying, I see you. Not just the bluster or hubris, but the soft core inside that is oftentimes hidden from the harshness of the world. I see you.
Parents keep a variety of secrets in an effort to protect their teens but it is my strong belief that teens are old enough and mature enough to hear the real family stories. And, perhaps telling family truths is yet another unwrapped gift that you can give your kids for Christmas.
In the morning, every morning, when my husband Michael first awakes, he rolls over and drapes his long, lean arm across my body. "You are the prettiest wife in the world," he sings, and the hairs along my neck and in my cochlea are all tall and listening.
She must have taken the surprised expression on my face for judgment, about the secret she kept from her husband.
I met my husband in November 1989. By Christmas we were pretty much living together. We weren't kids - he was in his forties and I was 38. So we didn't see much sense in taking it slow.
No, it's not the presents. It's all the little things -- sweet, goofy, endearing -- that make me feel so happy I chose this particular dude to be my partner in doing this whole life and love thing.
I've been happy living on my own. As Scrooge-like as it may sound, I like coming home to an empty apartment, with no one to cook for, or tell me what to cook, and no need to talk about my day when I don't feel like talking. But there's something about the holidays that brings out the nesting instinct.
You can barely make out the flicker of candlelight from the shadows around the corner and you wondering if you should go and investigate (a seance?) when you hear the soft strains of melodic sex oozing from the record player. Sade. Your spoon stops in mid air. Oh no.
2014 was another blockbuster year for the freedom to marry. In January gay couples could marry in 19 states. By December that number had skyrocketed to 35 -- covering two thirds of the American people. The momentum for marriage is off the charts, and the joy and security marriage brings are now shared by millions of gay Americans.
The 7th House of your birth chart holds the answer to that question. This is the House of intimate partnerships such as marriage, where there's a deep commitment of love between two people.
Now I applaud the emergence of high-powered couples, and George and Amal send a great message by being together. But how about we do all women a service, and not label them as any kind of accessory to men; no trophies to win or trinkets to collect. That is so passé.
In honor of the fact that JoAnn and I are celebrating our thirty-seventh wedding anniversary this week, I thought I'd reflect a little on what I think has allowed our relationship to survive.
My husband and I are a demonstrative bunch. We kiss and hug every morning when he comes downstairs to go to work. (I am always the first up.) And we do the same every time one of us walks back in the house from being gone.
The year of dates was a practice in discipline. That might sound unromantic, but I'm learning that when you have small children constantly vying for your attention, sometimes you have to practice discipline to create the space for romance.
Irresponsible. What did he mean? He didn't say that we were physically unable to have kids. He said that if we chose to, we would be irresponsible.