Making Time to Talk with Your Partner

A partner is someone who is always there, someone you take for granted.

But a partner is, after all, another person. Just living together doesn't create a bond strong enough to make you truly close. If you're not careful, you lose sight of each other.

For most of the work week, we live in different worlds. The people we meet, the experiences we have, and the things we eat are quite different. If you leave things as they are, you drift further and further apart. That is the nature of being separate individuals.

That's why my husband and I took a trip to Hakone yesterday. Even a nearby destination can make you feel like you've stepped out of your daily routine. While walking and eating, we talked a lot and enjoyed our meals. Although we can't take carefree trips right now due to caregiving, I still want to find opportunities like this to step away from our daily lives and share time together.

I wonder when it started. When did I decide to make a conscious effort to cherish the time I spend talking with my husband? It turns out he was a great conversationalist. Oh yes, I had finally remembered that.

When we were young, we talked a lot and did everything together. I was surprised when he said at the beginning of our marriage, "Let's go buy golf clubs!" I asked, "Wait, am I going to play golf too?" But he invited me to play as if it were the most natural thing in the world, and I even carried a bright red golf bag onto the course. My husband would be amazed by the sudden overseas travel plans I, a travel lover, would devise, but he would follow along, finding them interesting. We were together wherever we went.

That life changed 180 degrees after I became a mother. From that time on, the points of contact between my husband and me gradually disappeared.

Perhaps we had been traveling alone for a long time since then.

I used to think it was all my husband's fault, but Japanese salarymen are often pulled away from their families like that.

People gradually become more interested in what they interact with repeatedly, and eventually, they base their values on those things. Then, at times, family becomes a nuisance or a burden. Without even realizing that the cliché "it's for the sake of the family" only makes sense to the person saying it, many Japanese salarymen are pulled away from their families. While working hard for their families, they eventually lose sight of them. I think that is what addiction and the human heart are all about.

That is why, before we knew it, we had completely forgotten about each other.

However, on the day of the Great East Japan Earthquake, my husband took seven hours to get home. I was surprised. I still remember that clearly. I never imagined that my work-first husband would head home during such a crisis. But for him, home, family, and I were the places he belonged. I had never been so surprised in my life. Seeing him take a taxi and head home through the dark night changed something inside me.

I felt like we could live together again.

I wonder if my husband realizes it. That great earthquake was surely his first turning point.

And he doesn't know how surprised I was when he came home.

A salaryman's life is long. Even if you think you've dedicated your life to the company, the company might turn its back on you. My husband, who was a true Japanese salaryman, might now be gradually trying to break free from that.

Yesterday, we spent a relaxing day in Hakone without even touching our smartphones. A married couple are, after all, two separate people. That is precisely why we talk. And the more we talk, the more we get to know each other. My husband was a truly kind person. I'm glad I was able to remember that.

I can't help but feel that the Japanese word for a married couple implies that it's okay not to talk. Like, "Hey, that thing, what happened to that thing? You know, that thing!"

That is why I want to be partners with my husband. Whether it is a company or a job, continuing to be partners requires an effort to know each other. A relationship that is out of balance is a hierarchical one. Being partners means, at the very least, having an interest in the other person and being able to think about things from the same level.

Furthermore, when you take an interest in each other, your respective worlds expand two or three times over. I believe that is the beauty of being partners.

*Thank you for reading until the end.

*I also talk about this on Stand.fm.