“A long marriage is two people trying to dance a duet and two solos at the same time.”
~Anne Taylor Fleming
As I mentioned in an earlier post, my husband was out of town quite a bit over the last two months, just in time for our big move out to the country. I had a lot to say about that while it was happening, but didn’t think it would be wise to broadcast the fact that my daughters and I were home alone. Now I realize that I should have written and saved some posts to publish later, because now I can’t really remember anything I meant to say.
What I’m finding now, though, with him back home for good, is that things are rather awkward. It’s as if we each danced solo for awhile, and now we’re a bit out of step with each other. I think I’m doing the cha-cha and he’s doing the samba.
But I know that we’ll even out again. We’re committed to sticking around on this dance floor, even when we’re making fools of ourselves out here. So, strike up the band. I’m dancing with my man.