Evening Republican, Volume 21, Number 275, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 6 December 1917 — Little Problems of Married Life [ARTICLE]

Little Problems of Married Life

By WILLIAM GEORGE JORDAN

(Copyright) THE EBB-TIDE OF LOVE. The saddest thing in married life is the drifting apart of those who have lived and loved for years in the sunshine of each other’s presence. It is just a heart tragedy in the life of two. The greatest trials of life are not those which come to us from the world out--side the home, but those from the world within. With the inspiring pressure of the hand we’ love held tight in our awn, the battle of life can be borne bravely, but when the refuge of love and mutual respect and esteem is swept away, the very bulwarks of the home seem gone. Occasional discords, misunderstandings and little clouds of unhappiness may not be serious. The sun of reconciliation may scatter them, and in the balmy atmosphere that follows they may be forgotten. But it- is different when love itself grows cold and respect for each other, which is so able an understudy to love, goes on a long vacation. Then inharmonies intensify as the days go by; antagonism on the basic questions of life grows more bitter; grim, hopeless silence takes the place~of speech, or the atmosphere becomes vitiated by hot words of recrimination and contempt There is sometimes an indignant outburst of anger at white heat that is not so awful as it seems. It may be the fierce flame of protest from the heart that shows the fire of love is still burning; but constant, cold dead sarcasm and bitterness speak only of embers. , This condition is not a matrimonial duet; it is a matrimonial duel. When either husband or wife speaks words meant to sting,' phrases seemingly innocent to others hearing them, but which are deftly loaded to annoy or madden as they relentlessly find their way through the vulnerable point in the armor, it is time for those two to declare a truce and to hold a speedy peace conference or there will not be enough love left to hold an inquest over. They may even grow to hate each other’s ways, moods, acts, and turns of speech. The voice once loved may now sound shrill and hard; the step on the stair which was sweet music may seem a jarring discord, and the rippling laughter may strike only a vibrating note of vague rebellion. This surely shows Cupid is getting ready for a postmortem and a dead happiness will soon be buried. Sometimes the growing separation is on one side only, and one still loves with the old intensity and the old heart hunger. As absence is always harder for the one left behind, so this twilight of love is most painful to the one whose love is still constant. It is the dead nerve that carries no pain. The finer nature suffers most in life, as variations in temperature that may disturb the sensitive soul of a violin arq. powerless to affect brass cymbals. There may be a conscious effort on the part of the one who loves to disbelieve in the growing separation —not to credit it, not to realize it, nor to accept it for a moment as a possibility. But sometimes a word, a look, a sentence or an act makes further self-illusion folly, as a lighting flash may reveal to a traveler an abyss at his feet. The smile that was the light of our life no longer cheers ps; the caresses that told of love unstinted are withheld; the tenderness that seemed as sure as sunrise or sunset has turned to doubt, and the one ■who still loves may battle hopelessly when all life around him seems to move in a fog. At such times despite every wisdom of heart and mind, one can never say the right word or do the right thing. Heart strings of sentiment, that once vibrated at the slightest touch and brought out in an instant a flood of music from the finest memories of the soul, are now mute. No explanations, no pleas, no baring of one’s very heart, no illumination of the subtlest windings of thought and emotion can vanquish that vague something that separates:

We may stand broken hearted 1 by a wall of separation made up of gossip, fear, doubt, suspicion, injustice, and misunderstanding, with that most helpless of all despairs when we see love that was our "whole life, and still is all that makes life worth living, swept away as one would watch from a distance a boat carrying a loved one swept by the rapids x over an engulfing cataract. This, is the time when memories of past joy rise like ghosts and bring only pangs of pain, when love’s .dead roses leave us only the thorns. Love rarely dies a sudden death. It is usually ailing a long time before its decease. Little ills that could readily be cured la their early stages are permitted to run into more serious conditions ; complications set io and love, with its vitality exhausted through long suffering, finally dies. Love’s neglected colds often develop into consumption. Prompt treatment with a little unselfish care, tender watchfulness and cheerful, patient pursing may restore love to perfect health. The great things that separate two who have loved are usually only trifles grown big and tyrannous through being ignored, basic evils in .thr character, temperament or disposition of either that should be silenced and conquered in the best interests of both. Even disloyalty may- be only the cli-max-form that heart hunger, neglect.

loneliness. Jealousy, vanity gone to seed, revolt from an atmosphere of nagging, monotony, unsatisfied longing for sympathy, injustice, idleness, longsuffering or a dozen other phases may finally assume. Any of these may furnish the soil in Which IT finds root and sustenance. Sometimes It is the fault of one; sometimes husband and wife both are to blame. ' The “Innocent” one is often unknowingly, and perhaps even recklessly, an accessory before the fact The way to prevent the ebb-tide of love is to determine at the very start of married life that there will be no ebb-tide. Sometimes husband and wife, really loving each other as of old, wander blunderingly apart through pettiness, pique, false pride or misunderstanding. Often with hands outstretched in the darkness, just hungering for each other, almost touching, when a motion, a smile, a term of endearment, a love light in the eyes of either, would bring them conquered and submissive in each other’s arms, yet a recklessly indiscreet word, a mean taunt, a psychic moment of possibility passed by unheeded, or a silence that seems cruel, may drive them still further apart. The .stream of fine sentiment and heart emotldn should sweep them out of themselves; sometimes it backs water and engulfs them. It really seems that some people do not want happiness or they would not dodge'it so successfully, and begrudge the trifles it takes to sqjure it. People who would be shocked at the bare thought of actually destroying a twodollar bill often toss idly aside the happiness of two for the merest trifle. Life is too short and love too great to sacrifice one hour through pettiness. What matters it whose the fault or whose the forgiveness? It is a very poor brand of personal dignity that dares to throw its desecrating shadow between them and the joy of reconciliation and new bonds of love. When the realization of the waning of love comes, the two should seek to forget for a moment the differences, the saddening changes, the cemetery of dead memories and buried emotions, and try to get back somehow to some common ground of unity and understanding. They should seek to gather together the trifles of sacred things 'not yet lost. In the thought of these there may be a vitalizing flame of the old love flashing out from the dull gray of the ashes that will butn away the dross of discord and misunderstanding. Argument itself rarely counts; this is but an intellectual appeal; what is needed is an. emotional inspiration. We should recognize conditions fully for our own guidance in action, but it is not wise to make evident our pain by pleas and protests. Cruel words meant to sting can be neutralized to a degree by showing no sign of being effected by them. There is a yellow streak of cruelty in love grown cold; It likes the cringing that shows its power. Studied neglect and cool indifference are rarely continued if they are received with an Innocent absorption or preoccupation they cannot penetrate. There is really little fun shooting with these blank cartridges. An unexpected'kindness, a note of tenderness in speech or act, the regenerating Influence of the sweet sentiment, and graceful- attention of the earlier days of loving, may melt a mood of opposition that any argument would solidify as heat sets clay. Trying to get back to the fork of the road where parting came may illuminate life and show the insidious element that keeps apart two, who should love each other. In the care of a garden there is a twofold duty—• the elimination of the weeds and the planting of the flowers. In the home life the dual duty is specially vital; when discord reigns there should be at least the negative virtue of avoiding subjects of inharmony, of cutting off those things that intensify differences, of stopping the fire of verbal grapeshot that stings like needles. It is a time for antidotes, and if you cannot possibly give an antidote, Tn mercy give a poultice—not a blister. It is the hour when two people should work overtime making allowances for each other, and pack their sense of wounded personal dignity away for the season in tar paper, for it is in the way during such a crisis. In a storm at sea everything is sacrificed to save the ship; personal discomfort, suffering, trial, hardship—all count for nothing if the vessel Itself with its people be kept afloat. - When the life happiness of two hangs ip the balance, when love is sinking in a night of doubt, there should be a supreme effort to sa-fe the ship. Throw over pride, self-will, pique,, dignity, fear, selfishness, all little pet vlces e il necessary, sacrifice every wrong and even,, minor rights-—just to save the ship. Love is the most valuable cargo on the ship of life. It is the greatest thing in this world and the only thing that will make the next worth the llv ing. The ebb-tide of love is the saddest thing in a true individual life. It is a life’s follj&to let love die if aught we can do will keep it real and living.