The Courier

Stock Photo

Six years ago this month, I presided at my oldest son’s wedding [cue reactions of shock: “The padre can’t be that old, surely!”]

Padre (Major) Howard Rittenhouse – File Photo

If you’ll all just ratchet back your morbid spiral of thoughts perhaps we can have a fruitful conversation.  And don’t call me Shirley.  Thank you.

Anyway, it’s true.  They also have a beautiful little girl – two years old and the delight of her parents (and, of course, my wife and I are a little smitten with her).

Some of you have kids who are married (maybe you’re even grandparents too – who’s calling who old now?!), so you can imagine what it meant to us.  I can recall like it was yesterday the day he was born (a Sunday – naturally – and he interrupted my sermon), his first day at kindergarten, his first sarcastic comment.  Now he’s 31, married, a dad himself, a homeowner, and I think he’s one of the greatest kids on the planet.  I really do.

It’s just unnerving, in a way, just how fast the time has flown.  I was a country pastor when he was born: idealistic, optimistic, compassionate. Now I’m a padre in the CAF, a cantankerous curmudgeon with a skeptical streak a mile wide (but secretly still compassionate, just don’t tell anyone).  My family and I have grown, done a lot, seen a lot (and not always together), and loved almost every minute of it.  

And it makes me reflective.  I’ve had more than a few members in my office whose marriages and families have fallen apart.  They too had dreams and hopes for the future, but those dreams and hopes lie shattered around them.  They’re haggard, not hopeful; drained, not dreaming; exhausted, not excited.  It’s heart-breaking. 

Open communication is vital for a healthy relationship.  Keeping those lines of communication open and building trust and mutual respect pays dividends in the long run whether with your partner or kids, or your colleagues, for that matter.  

As the cause of more than a few arguments in my long marriage, we were able to survive – and thrive – because we talk, because we trust each other, because we respect each other.  It doesn’t just happen.  It takes years to build, but only a moment to smash.

And while open communication is essential in healthy relationships, these suggestions don’t apply in situations involving fear, coercion, abuse, or intimidation.  If you feel unsafe, different support is needed.  If communication feels unsafe, frightening, or consistently leaves you feeling blamed or controlled, please reach out to a confidential support – chaplains, or social workers, for instance.

Most of us don’t walk down the aisle fantasizing about long, tense conversations about finances, kids, why who did what to whom, or which way to hang the toilet roll.  But in healthy relationships, it’s those conversations – testing, tough, and tedious – on which the solid foundation of marriage is built.  So talk on, and talk often!

Share via
Copy link