My wife and I live in a recreational vehicle.
People often ask me, “how can you live in such a small area and not kill each other.”
I often respond, “because we love each other and…”
To walk from my living room to the kitchen is only three steps instead of twenty. I can smell Robin’s delicious cooking faster.
The bathroom is only three steps from the dining room which is helpful after a big pot of chili.
If I’m sleepy I don’t have to climb any steps to lay my head down and when I ready to go outside and play it’s only a hop, skip and a jump and I’m in the warm sunshine.
Clean up is a snap. Instead of a five-bedroom house with lots of dust collectors, we have a living room, kitchen/dining room, bathroom and bedroom.
Having this setup means less cleaning and more time to enjoy other things.
Is cleaning fun? Not always but at least we have less of it.
Besides, we try and do things together. Not just mundane chores but we try to spend time together even if it’s sitting next to each talking about how our day went.
I’m often reminded of a story about an elderly man and woman and how they coped with each other.
They had been married for more than 60 years, sharing everything. They talked about everything together.
They had kept no secrets from each other except that the little old woman had a shoe box in the top of her closet that she had cautioned her husband never to open or ask her about.
For all of these years, he had never thought about the box, but one day the little old woman got very sick and the doctor said she would not recover….
Trying to sort out their affairs, the little old man took down the shoe box and took it to his wife’s bedside. She agreed that it was time that he should know what was in the box.
When he opened it, he found two crocheted dolls and a stack of money totaling $25,000. He asked her about the contents.
“When we were to be married,” she said, “my grandmother told me the secret of a happy marriage was to never argue. She told me that if I ever got angry with you, I should just keep quiet and crochet a doll.”
The little old man was so moved; he had to fight back tears. Only two precious dolls were in the box. She had only been angry with him two times in all those years of living and loving. He almost burst with happiness……
“Honey,” he said, “that explains the dolls, but what about all of this money? Where did it come from?”
“Oh,” she said, “that’s the money I made from selling the dolls…”