Marriage Memoir by Ron and Crystal Meinstein

It is February 17, 2017. My father in law passed away yesterday. It was no surprise. He had been losing ground for some time. Even so he will be sorely missed. I am writing this because it helps me process my feelings and find peace.

We saw Mr. Carlson a couple of weeks ago. He seemed glad to see Crystal and me. We spent time talking about the past and our family. When we left, as always, he thanked us for visiting. I could tell he wasn’t going to be with us much longer. He was down to just over 100 pounds and periodically talking to people who weren’t in the room (according to Larry). As a nurse, I have seen that happen before. I believe, at some point, we transition to our next reality. For years, since his wife’s death, Jim has yearned to be with her. Oh, he was as much as possible, engaged in the reality of everyday life, but things were never the same. At least today we know where he is. Our loss will be Heaven’s gain. He and his Mary Jane are once more reunited.

I remember the first time I met Jim Carlson. He smiled and shook my hand. He looked at his daughter and his expression changed. He never gave me the lecture, but I could tell. He might as well have been cleaning a firearm and explaining how important it was that no one should hurt his daughter. However, the scowl didn’t last long. He could tell that Crystal was in love with me. And worse yet, I think Mary Jane knew, and told him to give me a break. He always listened to Mary Jane. Between the two of them there was some kind of unspoken balance. Together they worked.

It was only a few months later that I asked him for permission to marry his daughter. The scowl returned, if only for a moment. Both of us knew that wouldn’t last. Crystal had laid the ground work. While our relationship hadn’t always been perfect, we were in love. She talked about me all of the time, and quoted me as if I were the second coming of Niche. He told me about the importance of the commitment and how much he and Mary Jane cared for Crystal. I reassured him that he wasn’t losing a daughter and I would do my best to care for her. He relented and I have felt part of their family ever since.

Though the years my relation with Jim has been special. I have learned a lot from him. He has always been there when I needed advice or reassurance. Of course when it came to his daughter, all bets were off. When Crystal and I argued he would always take her side. His best advice to me was, ‘your wife is always right’. On the other hand, Mary Jane was usually more understanding. She told Jim to stay out of it and then helped Crystal to calm down. Most of the time that was all the help we needed.

Ironically, in these modern times, both of my married daughters’ husbands came to me prior to their engagements, to ask for my permission or at least my blessing. I acted as if I had learned nothing from Jim. The first I warned that I thought my daughter was too screwed up (from a previous relationship) to marry anyone. The second, I warned that we considered marriage a lifelong union and I worried about his level of commitment. Fortunately, both ignored my warnings, and currently have my daughters popping out more grandbabies. Not to bury the lead, my daughters are both happy.

Over the years, Jim has always treated me like a member of the family. I know he thought of me that way. I helped when I could. It was little things; shoveling a driveway, a little yard work or shopping.

What he gave me was far more valuable than a few odd jobs. He showed me what it meant to be a real man. Jim always put the needs of others before his own. Whether it meant helping friends and neighbors or being there for his own family he was always trying to help. I still remember sitting with him during one of Crystal’s surgeries. The surgery was supposed to last six hours, but wound up lasting nine. While he tried to reassure me, I could tell he was more nervous than me. Somehow, watching him squirm while trying to read, and asking me every fifteen minutes to check with the nurse, helped me to relax. I knew he cared as much as I did.

He loved his grandkids as well. Those feelings were mutual. One time, when we lived in Greensburg, our wives abandoned us. It was a cold day in October and Crystal and her mom were at a quilting show in Kentucky. Jim and I were left to hold a garage sale and take care of the kids. I stayed outside while he stayed (smartly) in the house. The girls, along with several neighbor kids, went back and forth. When they were out we threw a football, or they just sat with me and talked. I will admit to some evil thoughts about my wife (the sale was her idea) as the snow flurries began. But the girls helped. At one point, I had three of them sitting on me on top of the old chair we were giving away. I was finally warm. When they were in the house, I knew they were safe, playing, watching TV or talking to Jim. Every once and a while, he would check on me to make sure I was still alive and not covered with snow.

I’m also so pleased that Jim and Mary Jane agreed to be in our memoir. The first time he met her was during WW2 at the Kenosha USO. He saw her across a room and immediately was drawn to her. When he arrived at her side, he knocked over a lamp which Mary Jane caught. Together, they were a testament to what marriage should be. I don’t mean the love at first site bit. That never lasts. It’s the part about when one person knocks over a lamp the other will always be there to catch it. Through fifty-five years of marriage, Mary Jane and Jim never lost that.

Those last ten or so years, after Mary Jane’s passing, were never the same. Each time we visited, Jim was glad to see us. We spent hours just talking, watching his favorite westerns or playing pinnacle. Often Crystal and I would cook a nice meal or take him out to a restaurant. But we could tell, he was different. He had lost the love of his life and longed to be with her again. Today, that day has come. While their legacy will live on through their children and those who loved them, Mary Jane and Jim are together again. Praise God!

Also today, February 17, 2017 our latest granddaughter, Miss Addelyn Macenzie Klein, entered the world. A healthy baby girl, Liz and Brad’s latest, serving as a reminder that life will continue. Love will go on.

Jim at Michelle’s college graduation in 2008.                 Liz and new baby Addelyn

I was surprised when Sunday’s sermon was dedicated to the sanctity of human life. I was surprised since I had just finished writing the following much related post. I was going to wait a couple of days to post it, in case Crystal had something to add. She has just given me the all clear to post it as is.

Our daughters take the sanctity of human life very seriously and are doing their part. Sometime, over the next couple of months both Liz and Michelle are expecting to bring a couple of new baby girls into the world.

I find the decision to be a grandpa again, was an easy one. We love our four grand children very much, like spending time with them, playing with them and handing them back to their mom and dad. The decision to be a parent is infinitely more difficult. Not everyone should become a parent. There is nothing sadder than seeing parents who should have never been parents. I won’t elaborate. I don’t think I need to. Go out in the world or watch Dr. Phil.

The decision to raise children will impact every aspect of your life: your relationship with your spouse (significant other), where you live, how you spend your money, how you spend your free time (I use the term loosely), etc. I know my girls are and will be great parents. They have both put in the ground work. They have good value systems, will put the needs of their children ahead of their own, and have adequately trained their husbands.

That last one is in no way a slight on their husbands. Brad and Alex are wonderful, but we (guys) all need some training. You see, most women have a head start on us. They think about being moms from the time they are toddlers. Most young boys aren’t very much into baby dolls or doll houses. Also, even if it’s only in those stupid gym class lectures, girls are taught about their greater level of commitment. Guys don’t get pregnant, or have to give birth. The joke that, if guys had to have babies the human race would have died out a long time ago, might not be that farfetched. Also, during the pregnancy or after the birth, guys may come and go. But a mom is a mom, is a mom. As I have said on several occasions, finding a spouse and having a child are two decisions which, while they may affect each other, should be made independently.

From my own experience, Crystal and I both agreed before we got engaged that we wanted to raise a family. However, it was Crystal who read the books and magazines, had the baby shower, organized the nursery, and set up the child birth and Lamaze classes. I went along with everything. Once she was pregnant, I did my best to be supportive and empathetic, but I had my work and my life. I admit, in a lot of ways, I was ignorant. Things for me became a different level of reality, only after the nurse handed me my daughter(s). The first time they looked up and saw daddy, they knew they had me. They were right.

I can’t remember what I had for lunch yesterday, but that first day with Elizabeth I will never forget. I carried her proudly with my best one handed football carry. I knew she was safe. I never dropped a football. Of course footballs don’t giggle and wiggle. After I picked her up…..Kidding…..we arrived at the car. I think it took about the next five minutes to fight the car seat into submission. Somewhere in that time I had my Prissy moment. I don’t know noting bout raisen no babys. That moment only lasted for about the next twenty years. I’m OK now. The point is the miracle of birth is followed by years and years of work and commitment. However, it is so worth it. Besides, to do any less is like telling God to take back his miracle.

To say birth is a miracle is an understatement. To me, a baby is the ultimate proof of a God. As a scientist, I look at the world from a critical point of view. I drove my anatomy teacher crazy pointing out the inconsistencies and errors in our book. I read my Bible (excuse the pun) religiously. While I often struggle with details and have a list of questions for God, I never doubt His existence.

While many scientists struggle to find the proposed missing link, my question is much more basic. Which came first, the chicken or the egg? There is a correct answer…..They had to arrive simultaneously. Think about it. So the next time you look across the table at your spouse, you can thank God for that one magnificent chromosome, which made all of that difference. Procreation is God’s creation.

To my beloved daughters, their husbands and all who have decided to perpetuate the human race regardless of the costs, congratulations, mozel tof, and shalom.

I finally have something in common with my daughters.

I’ve been told I have a great sense of humor (or corny if you ask my daughters). Psychologically, humor could be used as a defense mechanism. It can be used to hide a deeper inner pain. It could be an escape mechanism, because life is too serious without a sense of humor. It could demonstrate an overdeveloped need for positive feedback. I’ve also heard that a good sense of humor is a sign of intelligence. Let’s go with that one.

As much as I would like, humor isn’t always possible, even for me. Life can get very real, very fast. I love our Wednesday Bible study. While I always learn from the study part, it is not the largest part of those two hours each week. That is always reserved for prayer, praises and concerns. Unfortunately, the list of concerns always seems to come out larger. We listen intently as each concern, worry, suffering is revealed. An occasional positive story helps bring life into perspective. When the list is complete we begin a time of prayer.

Lately I’ve been asking for prayer for my middle daughter, Michelle or Mishel as she prefers. She married her long time friend and companion, Alex. They had a great honeymoon: Europe and Mexico. While they had planned on having children, Michelle’s immediate pregnancy wasn’t planned. Life is all about adapting. Sometimes it’s harder to adapt than others. Late Friday night, with Alex and her sister Liz present, in a Columbus hospital, she lost the baby.

There are no jokes for that. There is no period of time that will erase the horrible experience. There is only life and another in my growing list of questions for God. Oh time will pass; and the pain will seem less. Eventually, at the right time, they will try again, and be successful. If there is one thing I know about Michelle, it’s that she has so much love to give, and will be an amazing mother. I’m equally certain that, much like me, when the time comes, Alex will rise to the challenge.

Yes, he will be the first to steal the baby’s nose. His heart will fill with pride as he uses his best football carry to transport his new little bundle of pride and joy. In a little while he might even teach his child something akin to my flying baby trick. It always elicited smiles from my daughters and a scrupulous stare and moan from Crystal. I enjoyed her reaction almost better than my daughters’.

Oh there will be times when their young child will terrify them. I remember when Michelle was three and she went into convulsions. We got her to the hospital in time. Even then, she smiled and enjoyed the attention. Then there was the time when she got lost at a large fair we were attending (my fault if you ask Crystal). I covered a lot of ground at a rather high rate of speed. We found her by the concession stands, looking for a handout. In second grade, her teachers were mean to her. She came home crying every other day. We wound up homeschooling her for a year and then sending her to a Christian school we really couldn’t afford. When it comes to your kid, it’s never about money.

For years Michelle was my jogging partner. She always got more exercise than me though. Somehow girls can’t run quietly. I think it takes a lot more energy to talk while you’re running. Somehow I think the talking, or processing of life, was her reason for running. Of course, I enjoyed the company and one on one time with her.

When I see my girls go through life and its associated challenges, I marvel at their resilience. I like to think they got some of that from Crystal and me. While I am sure they probably each have their lists for God, they will continue to endure. At times they will even thrive. Other times, like today, they will grieve. Even God acknowledges; for everything there is a season, a time for every activity under heaven. (Ecclesiastes 3:1).

That means that, sometime, hopefully in the not too distant future, I will again find something funny about life. I hope it is soon.

This was three year old Michelle later on that trip when she had convulsions.

Yes the holidays are over; and no this isn’t an attempt to relive them. For better or worse (only a slight reference to wedding vows), this web site is dedicated to supporting the institute of marriage. There are probably hundreds of theories on why marriages succeed or fail. However, to one extent or another, I believe at some level, most stem from problems with communication. There are various theories on how communication occurs. Most involve a sender, a message, a receiver, and often feedback. It sounds simple until you realize that interpretation is involved. All too often, what the sender intended to communicate is misinterpreted by the receiver. Then there are compounding factors like the honesty, motives behind the message, the emotional state of each party, frames of reference, and expectations. There is also a notable difference between hearing and listening. Hearing is the physiological response to sound. Listening involves processing the sounds into thoughts.

There are hundreds, maybe thousands of books dedicated to the subject of communication. To narrow the focus a little, we will confine our discussion to men and women within the confines of marriage. My first communication problems with Crystal actually began before our marriage. The summer before my last semester at Bradley University I was at school; and prior to her senior year, Crystal had a summer job in Chicago. There were one hundred and fifty miles between us. Somehow it seemed like a lot more. I had a great summer; Crystal, not so much. I was seeing old friends, partying, working and going to school. Crystal was back home and having a rough time of things. Somehow every time I would talk to her I would say something wrong. When I wrote to her, it would be even worse. It was like we were two different species. I didn’t understand her and she didn’t understand me. The reality was that this was the beginning of a long discovery process about our differences.

Men and women, while not different species, are different. One thing I learned while studying nursing is that anatomy (structure) determines physiology (function). Our brains are not the same; our chemistries are not the same. To expect us to respond exactly the same is not realistic. These differences can either add to our marriage or drive it into the rocks. The better we understand these differences, the better we can make them strength.

When my three daughters call us, they will generally ask to talk to one of us. When they ask for mom, they need to dish. In other words, women need to talk in order to thoroughly process their thoughts. That is one reason women, on the average, speak so many more words each day than men. When my daughters ask to speak to me, they generally ask a very focused question about a specific subject. Should I take that job or what is wrong with my car? They know that, as a man, I am very task and results oriented. If they try to process thoughts with me, I will cut them off with solutions and suggestions (although I have gotten better over the years). Therein lies the problem.

I can assure you that at some point, every wife has thought that her husband and she were in total agreement. She was then shocked when he denied having the discussion? On the other hand, at some point, every husband has the experience of his wife insisting that he agreed to something that he had no clue about? Well the mysterious truth is that they were both right (refer to hearing vs. listening above). As I have said, on numerous occasions while writing these posts, I am no expert. If you want an expert, ask Dr. Phil. I just know what I have observed. When Crystal and I sit in our living room and watch TV, we talk. Actually, Crystal talks and I listen and occasionally chirp in. Sometime later, we have a discussion about what was said, and how I agreed to, disagreed with, or was informed of something. I earnestly have no recollection of said discussion. The problem occurs when Crystal starts using me to process her thoughts and then segues into an action oriented item. At some point, her ability to speak exceeds my ability to actively listen. While I may have made a gesture or grunt of acknowledgment, it should in no way be later used against me.

In addition man vs. women differences we have differences as individuals. In my case, as a kid I suffered with ADD. While I have learned to control it, I never totally got over it. For example, on the rare occasions that I actually join Crystal in watching Dr Phil, he will say something like “It’s not like I just fell off the turnip truck”. To the average watcher, I’m sure the implications are obvious. To me, however, I begin analyzing the statement. Does he mean that he isn’t a turnip (assuming turnips are stupid)? Is this a slur on migrant workers? Is he saying that if someone fell off a turnip truck they might land on their head and become disoriented? Why did he pick a turnip truck and not a garbage truck or a potato truck? At any rate, by the time I return to the show, generally two guests are yelling at each other for some dumb reason.

So what is the answer? If I were a wife, when I needed my husband’s attention for a decision, I would grab each of his ears with my hands and stare straight into his eyes while engaging in an important discussion. However, as a man, I would really object to being treated in such a manner. So the bottom line (a man term) is, I have no answer to resolve a problem which has existed throughout history. My hope is that, simply being aware of the difference will help. It should! It’s not like you just fell off the peanut wagon!

Crystal’s Corner

Doesn’t Ron talk like a scientist?  I am not a scientist.  I tried to do experiments in my high school lab and ended up with the table on fire.  While Ron makes some good points I have a slightly different take on our specific situation.  When I talk about sports, his Dad, the car, dinner or something that he is interested in, then he hears me.  Well, not always when I talk about plans with his Dad.  But if I am talking about the girls and their problems, my problems, a movie I want to see or a book I want to read, then he doesn’t hear me.  Even when I get his attention and he looks straight at me, he still won’t remember later.  There are times when I have written him letters in order to get a point across.  That does actually work.

It is also a problem to me when he is watching TV or just tired and I have something I am excited to tell him, that he tells me to talk to him later. In the first place, I am excited now.  In the second place, I will forget about it later. We have progressed somewhat in our lines of communication. But just today we had an argument (or loud discussion) about two laundry baskets.  The baskets were both in the big bathroom.  One of the baskets had the clothes I wash by hand in it and the other one had the clothes that either he or I will wash by machine.  He had put the wrong basket in the hallway on its way to the laundry.   When I saw it, I told him, “you have the wrong basket.”

He said, “No, I don’t”.

I said, “Yes, you do.”

This went on for awhile until I showed him the other basket that had the machine washable clothing in it.  I am glad I caught it or my sweaters would shrink when he washed them.

Most of the time, we communicate pretty well, but like most couples, we have our moments.  I would recommend the book, Women are from Venus and Men are from Mars, but I wouldn’t try to discuss it with your husband while he is watching TV.  Maybe they only have TV on Mars. Anyway, happy communicating, and Happy New Year 2016.

There’s my wifipoohe and a calf (wife on right), along with a great fall picture of dad by the Scioto River.

Today’s topic is wedding surprise. There were a lot of things which didn’t surprise me at my daughter Michelle’s wedding, earlier this month. First and foremost, was the wedding itself. Michelle and Alex have been together for a long time so the wedding surprised no-one. Alex actually asked for my permission. Trust me, no one does that without being certain, I mean death and taxes certain, they were getting married. I asked my father-in-law while he was cleaning his gun (kidding).

The wedding was great. No surprise there, Michelle and Alex are both great planners. There was a short, but meaningful ceremony followed by really excellent food (even a carving station). My dad, who has eaten in some of America’s best restaurants, was really impressed with the prime rib. After dinner there was good music, toasts, dancing, and games. They even allowed me to pray before the meal. That meant a lot to me.

I believe I was one of the few, including my wife, who was not at all surprised when the bride and two bride’s maids (our other two daughters) were the last contestants in the game of musical chairs (out of eleven). Other contestants didn’t stand a chance. Competitive nature was not a rarity in our household. I once thought there might be bloodshed over a game of monopoly. And if I ever have to listen to another debate about who the best softball player was, I just might hit myself with a bat. Unfortunately, I taught them all how to play, and was at many of their games. When the debates begin, I’ve learned to smile and nod (better than duck and cover). I haven’t always been so wise. At one point, a long, long time ago, I thought the right thing was to give my honest opinion. My wife and three daughters quickly taught me that the only acceptable response to such queries is one of unconditional love or no response. Girls are actually OK with a non-responsive dad, as they seem to have no trouble continuing a conversation in perpetuity (with or without my input).

My big wedding surprise came at the discretion of the wedding DJ. He decided to play the little anniversary game. You know the one. First you get all of the married couples on the dance floor dancing. Then you start to eliminate them based on time served, or rather time married. First, everyone who has been married less than one full day may be seated. Of course that eliminated Michelle and Alex. Then he went to one year, five years, and then ten years. At that point my oldest Liz and her husband Brad were seated. The game continued and I was anxious to find out which of the older couples would be left once we were eliminated. To my extreme surprise, when the DJ got to thirty-five years, Crystal’s brother Larry and his wife Linda left. Crystal and I were alone on the dance floor…….I was shocked…….When did we become the old married couple? I masked my amazement by spinning Crystal a couple of times. I was trying to subliminally communicate with everyone there that we were still young. I’m sure they could all see that.

Since that day, I’ve had a little more time to reflect. This was a rather small reception of only about fifty people. Our thirty-seven years really wasn’t that much. After all, my knees and hip stopped being sore some time the next day. That doesn’t make me old, does it? Of course not! I have already figured out the solution. Whenever it’s Lisa’s turn to get married I’ll just have to help out with the guest list. Crystal and I know some older married couples who would love to attend a wedding. Problem solved! The moral of this story is that satisfaction in marriage, and for that matter in life, is all a matter of perspective…and occasionally, strategic denial.

The happy couple.

This is just before the last irrelevant contestant is eliminated.

OK while a lot has happened with dad, as far as I know, nothing has yet been resolved with his much publicized taxes. Our lives are not on hold though. The main purpose of this blog is to promote our memoir and offer support to the institute of marriage. Let’s continue with this glimpse back to Crystal and my past.

The conditioning starts early with little girls. I know; I raised three of them. All of those nice fairy tales end happily but too early. The camera zooms into the castle. Beautiful flower arrangements dominate the room. You can almost smell them. The room is full of splendidly dressed guests. Then the camera zooms in to reveal the handsome smiling groom. Finally, as anticipation peaks, here comes the lovely bride all dressed in White (a symbol of her untarnished purity). The words “happily ever after” are spoken and the camera fades to the sky or a book, etc., etc.

Yes Virginia, this is a fairy tale. It’s not that I’m against weddings: it’s the happily ever after syndrome I can’t condone. All too often, there is this big buildup toward “the happiest day of your life”. However, reality soon rears its ugly head. It’s a lie. No matter how much time, effort, planning and money you and your spouse, his or her family put into its planning and execution, a wedding is just another day. The clock will strike midnight and life will continue, with nary a glass slipper in site.

I met Crystal in college, and one of the things which attracted me to her was that marriage wasn’t in her vocabulary. Well, to be more precise, marriage was in her vocabulary. She was practically a straight A English major. Many words, words I didn’t even know, were in her vocabulary. She just wasn’t in college to get her MRS degree. Trust me, many girls were looking for that perfect, make my life complete, “first” husband. Early in our relationship, she outlined her plan to graduate and then move to an artist colony in Oregon to become a famous writer. A husband never entered her plans.

It wasn’t love at first sight. We met at a party. She didn’t trust me. Sometime later, she was the seventh person I had asked to the semiformal dance. We both had a great time at the dance. However, even then things moved slowly. After she finally realized that God had different plans, and Oregon might have to wait, we got engaged (I had to ask her twice). We started talking about our future together. While she had few preconceived notions about the wedding, she started to save and would pay for it. While we would share in the planning, she would make most of the important decisions. It seemed fair to me. I was responsible for the honeymoon. We were both happy with the arrangement.

Then that one fateful phone call occurred. She was crying. I, like 99% of all men, can’t stand it when a woman cries. She couldn’t find any place to have our wedding reception on or around April 1^st (that’s right we are a couple of April fools). I told her not to worry, I would find a place. ‘Really?’ she said in disbelief. I assured her that she just needed to tell me what she wanted and how much she could spend. She stopped crying (thank God). I dedicated myself to the search. I talked to friends, visited restaurants and banquet halls, one after another. Finally I found one which seemed perfect. Crystal was thrilled.

To this day, our wedding is still the best one I have ever attended. That includes the reception. Part of the formula is, and has been ever since, we work well together. With the exception of our basic Christian values, Crystal and I aren’t the same type of person, not even close. However, we complement each other well. I am great at organizing, Crystal is extremely detail oriented. I may be writing the article this time, but I know that she will be around shortly to edit and fix my grammar, as needed.

So in short, yes we had our “happiest day”, but not really. Yes the day was great, but it’s not how I would evaluate our marriage. Before we ever got to the altar, we already had an idea that we worked well together. Over these last thirty-seven years since that day, we have had many ups and downs. But we have gone through them together. Our real strength was something we discovered while planning our wedding. We realized that, while neither of us is perfect, together we could overcome any of life’s challenges.

Crystal helping our oldest daughter Elizabeth with her dress. She looked a little like a princess…at least to me.