What a kick it would have been to live next door to Mr. Rogers.
By all accounts, he was as pleasant in real life as he was on his TV show, Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood. And, if we’d been neighbors, even though he was a lifelong Republican and I’m of a more liberal persuasion, I like to picture us occasionally hanging out at the back fence, shooting the political breeze.
I can’t imagine things turning ugly if we didn’t agree. There’d have been no name-calling or cardigan-throwing if we differed over health care or taxation or mask-wearing mandates.
I bet I would’ve learned some things during our chats. Calm and reflective people like Mr. Rogers usually bring a lot to the table — or to the fence. And I know he would have listened to my opinions without rolling his eyes or calling me stupid or a snowflake. …
“If I got paralyzed in an accident would you still marry me?” I asked my now-husband shortly before our wedding.
“I don’t know,” he said, struggling to answer. “I never think about things like that.”
Meanwhile, I was thinking a lot about things like that. About love — and its obligations and its limits. Moonlight and roses are the easy part. Suspended in a bubble of romantic love it’s difficult to imagine anything ending the happily ever after.
Being a realist, I was suspicious.
What happens, I wondered, when the spanner hits the domestic bliss.
There is no cure for love other than marriage.— …
“Where’s your husband?” my doctor asked after she checked on me.
I was in the hospital to give birth to my second child. Because of some complications, my doctor had decided to induce labor. My husband had driven me to the hospital, helped me settle into my room but had slipped away while the nurse was setting up an I.V.
“Umm… Not exactly sure where he is but if I had to guess… he’s probably running up and down the hospital stairs.”
When my husband reappeared a little while later, flushed and slightly out of breath, I knew I’d guessed correctly. After hearing the induction could take all day he decided to head for the stairwell. …