Wanting To Do The Dishes

My mom is excellent at remembering what's going on with people and checking in. She never misses someone's birthday and if she knows they're sick or going through something, she calls. If they've had a happy life event, she sends a gift – even if they're a distant relative or someone she likes who didn't necessarily invite her to the event. She believes in marking these moments – in showing care and marking connection. When Ailyn had her tonsils out, my mom wanted to be there when Ailyn woke up from the anesthesia – and was. My mom was the first person Ailyn saw and Ailyn will tell you to this day that she remembers waking up to Bubbee – who two hours later was taking turns with Emily's mom, Susan, spoon feeding Ailyn ice cream. Ailyn also remembers the joy of having grandmothers on both sides of her feeding her ice cream. Her tonsillectomy is not a traumatic memory.

My own Bubbee – my mom's mom – was the same way. She had a vast network of people in her life whom she kept tabs on and cared about. She knew who was sick, going through a relationship problem, having surgery, struggling financially and she made sure to show her care and support. While recovering from my own tonsillectomy, I remember she and my grandpa spending long hours playing board games with me and when I was sick – particularly if I had a fever – they called multiple times a day. When my parents were young and struggling, my Bubbee would invite them over for dinner and make two additional portions, but not three. At the time, my grandparents still had my Uncle Richard living at home. If there had been enough remaining for three, my parents would have refused the leftovers. But if there was only enough for two, well, what could you do? So, another night's dinner went home with them. Over the years I have heard from cousins how she brought soup when they were sick or cleaned their apartments when they moved. She had many things going with many people – lots of different ways she showed care.

I had good models for care and learned that while there are many things that go into building relationships that last, care is one of the most powerful and essential. As a result, I try to show care and bring it into my own relationship building. Whether with friends, colleagues, family, my kids or my wife – acts of care are what make durable relationships and more importantly help people feel important and loved.

As I grew into adulthood, I realized the world is not as caring a place as the family in which I grew up. Life required me to be able to care for myself  - and being smart and able, I learned how. I take pride in managing myself and minimizing my needs and expectations from others. I'm a pretty good cook and I can competently manage a household, finances and the lame things like insurance, bills and taxes. I wouldn't say that I'm impressive at washing dishes (as some readers can attest) but I'm great at efficiently loading a dishwasher and running it.

When I first met Emily, she commented that I had an "adult apartment" which she liked. I had decent furniture, lived in a nice building, an in-unit washer and dryer, central air and plenty of kitchenware. I was adulting. 

All this to say, I have never prioritized being cared for as a major criteria in any of my relationships – friends or romantic. In fact, I had one girlfriend who cared for me a little too much when I was sick and I quietly wished she would go home.

But I made a mistake. Going into my relationship with Emily, I undervalued myself. While I didn't need care or foresee needing it, having someone want to show care is an important quality. It actually speaks volumes about who they are and whether they show up for you emotionally when you need them – which is an essential function of a partnered relationship.

One of the things I'm struggling with now is that in more than enough ways, Emily has shown that she will not care for me. That is one thing not in the deal. It wasn't from the beginning and it never will be. I could give my shocking examples of just how much she lacks empathy or the will to care and I could try to explain what lies behind it, or what blocks her (because she's not truly malicious). It hasn't played a large role in our day-to-day life because I don't require care often. I rarely get sick, have no major health issues, don't complain much if I am sick or hurt and don't seek to be tended. I'm much more focused on tending others and when Emily or my kids are sick or hurt, I am very attentive. And Emily is very vocal about any hurt or discomfort she may experience – so she gets plenty of attentiveness.

However, as I imagine the possible scenarios that could follow this ten-week period, I am stuck on this issue of care. Do I want a relationship where my partner just truly will not be there for me? 

Emily would of course point out that her being with the kids and allowing me to take this time in Greece is an act of being there for me – and that has merit. On the other hand, she wants a separation and these were my terms for doing it. So it's not entirely an altruistic act. But no matter, ten weeks with the kids and running the household is a lot. Still, this is new and uncharacteristic of her. And I have to assume that without the extraordinary circumstances of this period – and her getting the separation she wants out of it, that she wouldn't be so giving.

The question becomes: If Emily and I can work things out and come back together at the end of this time period, what price am I willing to pay? Is knowing that I'll continue to forgo being cared for still acceptable? And at what cost to my children is my own need to have someone who would care for me? After all, I don't anticipate needing care – hopefully not until I'm much older. And I can always revise my power of attorney paperwork to have someone else make my medical decisions should God forbid I need it (and I've thought about changing that for years). But just writing these sentences says a lot and I know what I would tell a friend or family member who would share this with me.

I'm only a week into this separation and it's far too soon to be deriving any conclusions. But of course thoughts and feelings swim around and I think acknowledging them is probably a good step. As the instructor on yesterday's yoga video said, "your feelings are neither good nor bad, important or not important, worth listening to or ignoring – they just are, so let them be." It's not often I find much value in yoga-speak – but that one was a nugget. 

Back when Emily and I first moved in together, we watched a rom-com (she loves rom-com's) called "The Break-up" with Jennifer Aniston and Vince Vaughn. While a mostly forgettable movie, it also had a nugget. "It's not that I need you to do the dishes, it's that I want you to WANT to do the dishes!" Jennifer Aniston's character says. And that's the issue right there. I want Emily to want to do the dishes and her position seems to be like Vince Vaughn's, "Why would I want to do the dishes?!"

And there it is.