Dearest Rachel -
A lot of men, including myself, will jocularly refer to their wives as their "better half," with a fair amount of unspoken truth embedded in that title. While I don't think I'm qualified to speak for all men, I can't be the only one who sometimes suffers from "imposter syndrome" when it comes to being the head of the household. Sure, I "brought home the bacon" (and by doing so, made it possible for you not to have to, a rare thing in these days which you acknowledged with gratitude, even as your parents seemed to express a certain amount of dismay over the apparent waste of your college education) and balanced the books once it was home, but you were the public face of the family unit, the one representing us in the church and the community through participation and service. I rarely thought that I had the moral or spiritual high ground if there was any difference between us, and even if we might agree that I held an edge in the intellectual sphere, it wasn't by as much as you might have thought.
At the same time, you never let me feel that I was in any way your inferior in any regard. You were able, in the words of our lead pastor's wife, "to duck and let the Lord smack [me]" by placing yourself under my authority as the head of the household. It was quite the responsibility for me to bear, and somehow, you made it worthwhile for me to take up the mantle of leadership, no matter how little I thought I was up to the task. I still don't, despite the fact that our family has been reduced to just Daniel and myself (and who else is going to be in charge, if not me?)
I would say that there must have been some of your upbringing involved in this, although I couldn't say to what extent. From what I could tell, it often seemed like your Mom ran things at home, and since I didn't see much of your family within the wider world (and your folks had basically retired by the time I entered the picture), I never got much chance to see where your Dad led your family. You used to tell me about certain times throughout your childhood when your Mom wasn't around, and the bonding moments you and your Dad would have together during those periods. From the food you ate to the movies you watched together, you always gave the impression that you preferred those times to the 'normal' state of life at home – or at least, they had a certain 'special' quality about them that made you treasure them.
The more I think about it, the more I realize what a compliment (even if it did have a certain Electra-complex undertone to it) it was when you and Elizabeth would refer to me as the 'daddy' of the semi-imaginary family tree you two devised within your circle of friends and acquaintances at college. Granted, this went up at least another generation (with 'grandma' Margie), as well as sideways ('uncle' Dave and 'aunt' Debbie – the only two actual blood relatives in this mock genealogy), but that I was given such a place in your life, even before it ever crossed your mind that I could be something other than a college friend, speaks to your opinion of me. Then again, you two had me connected to 'mommy' Cheryl, who basically hasn't spoken to me since we both graduated, so maybe I'm reading too much into this.
And whether I am or not, I've gone way off the topic I was planning on discussing with you.
My point was that, despite your efforts to keep yourself as young at heart (and body, in some ways, albeit not through any artificial methods save for hair dye), you could have easily bested me in certain spheres of life. And yet, whether deliberately or not, you made no effort to claim any sort of superiority over me. It may have been one of several reasons as to why our relationship was so harmonious, for all I know.
I mention this because my meeting up with K on Saturday was the first time I found myself conversing with a woman who could easily be my intellectual superior. We seemed to connect well for the few hours we were together (although we didn't talk much on the boat ride on the Chicago River, leaving the talking to the docent narrating the sights we passed along the way); our lunch on the Riverwalk felt almost as natural as those I regularly have with Lars, mostly discussing travels we've been on and places we've lived. And that's the thing; she's lived in places that I've merely visited. Her range of experience is orders of magnitude beyond my own. As a teacher, she's also studied far past the point at which I decided I really didn't want to anymore; and she loves her work such that she doesn't see leaving it behind at any point in the near future, even as she acknowledges that she looks forward to traveling a lot in that future (hey, that three-month period of downtime is good for something like that, as you well know from your own folks' experience). She's ahead of me, and it's obvious even to someone as oblivious as I am.
What's impressive, though, is that she didn't hold that over me, or even necessarily even seem to recognize it as we were speaking with each other. We were just conversing; maybe not like old friends, but in a comfortable, friendly manner that promised that we could enjoy each other's company. She could be my superior, but she was dealing with me as an equal. I have to say, it was an unusual experience, and not nearly as uncomfortable as I probably make it sound.
However, perhaps she did recognize the discrepancy in the end; after getting home, I sent a text to her Sunday morning thanking her for a pleasant day together and looking forward to future opportunities to meet. She responded with a text just as I was working on this letter to you. She told me she'd had a lovely day, yes, but that she didn't think the two of us were likely to be a match after all. So maybe she perceived the inequality in us as well, and thought it might be too much of an obstacle to overcome in order to make something more out of us.
Now, as much as I might be disappointed in this result (had it been up to me alone, I would at least have tried to pursue this for at least a few more dates before giving up on it), I appreciate her letting me know that this looked to her like a blind alley; why waste the time and expense on a fruitless endeavor? There may well be other possibilities out there; best to go chase them, rather than grind away at something that – at least as far as she was concerned – wasn't going to pan out. One more demonstration of her intellectual superiority, perhaps.
So as I return (eventually – at the moment, I'm in no hurry) to the drawing board, I should ask you to continue to keep an eye on me, and wish me luck, as I'm still going to need it.
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