All of his adult life my hubby, Jim looked forward to retirement. When the time finally came he wanted me to retire too. I was perfectly happy with what I was doing, keeping children of working parents in my home and was not eager to retire. I knew that I would probably have to in order to keep the peace, for although he loved the children as much as I loved them and enjoyed playing with them and teaching them how to do simple things, I also knew that he had worked hard waiting for this day to come. He had earned it, and so had I. But, I thought, when he leaves his job he will say goodbye to it forever, turn his back on it and never walk through that door again.
I, on the other hand, could not close that door behind me. My work was here at home, and always would be. I reminded him of that fact. I had always been the homemaker, he had always been the breadwinner.
Oh, I had worked a total of seventeen years outside that role and during those years we had shared household duties, but running the household was still my baby.
He took care of the yard and the vehicles, and supervised our three sons in their chores. And of course he was good at disciplining them, teaching them right from wrong and seeing to it they paid the price when they did wrong.
Now he was serious about retiring, positive that was what he wanted to do. So I sat him down and explained how it would be here at home in our retirement.
He listened to everything I had to say. He was willing to accept responsibility for helping out with the household if I would teach him how to cook. It was to be a trade-off; in return for his learning to cook he would teach me how to care for the vehicles and the lawn.
We were preparing ourselves for that day when one of us would no longer be present.
I had a few years ago cut the grass a few times and knew how to start and run the lawnmower, but that was about it. I had never changed a tire, never checked the oil, air, antifreeze, or changed a fuse in the car. Rarely had I even gassed up the car. He had always done all of those things. I barely knew the hood from the trunk.
He was a quick learner in the kitchen. He would ask me how to cook certain foods. I would give him the recipe. He would write it down in his own little cookbook, then cook it.
He learned to do the wash, the vacuuming, pay the bills, balance the checkbook (which I had always done before), shop for groceries. In short, he learned to do everything that needs to be done inside the house. And he continued to do all the yard work and maintenance of the vehicles and the house, and to grow a vegetable garden.
Then I suffered an injury that put me in the hospital for a few days just at the time the vegetables were beginning to produce. He called the hospital and asked for directions for freezing squash.
I was bedridden a month after getting home from the hospital. He set up a hospital bed for me in the room next to the kitchen where he could look after me, and I could give him directions for cooking and preparing vegetables from his garden for the freezer, and canning tomatoes.
By the time I had recuperated from my injuries he had all the vegetables put away for future use. Soon all the vegetables had been either frozen or canned. He still enjoys doing that as he has such a feeling of accomplishment when he looks at the rows and rows of canned and frozen foods that he has put away.
All that was in 1994. Now it is 2003.You could say he has fallen down in other areas, though I suppose that depends upon your point of view. For he has not yet begun to teach me to maintain the car or the lawn or the garden. Maybe he thinks I am a slow learner. Or maybe he had rather do it himself. But I know he does not consider those things “ladies’ work”.
In fact, he often told me over the years that certain things were men's work, like cutting the grass, for example. And I am perfectly happy with that arrangement, but I know there may come a day when I will wish I had learned those lessons.
He did take me out to the carport one day, opened up the trunk and pointed out the spare tire and the jack to me. But I have yet to learn how to get them out of the trunk. So far I have been extremely lucky. Once one of the hoses broke just as I pulled into our driveway after returning from a long trip. I would have been totally lost had that occurred on the highway. Even so I am not eager to become the resident mechanic.
(copyright)2003 LaVonne Boruk All rights reserved.