My husband Gerald and I have been married for 43 years. We raised three children, survived two recessions, and cared for both sets of aging parents. We are, by any measure, a team.
But six months into his retirement, something was off. We were together constantly, and somehow more distant than we'd been during the years we barely saw each other.
Our counselor suggested we needed an experience that was genuinely new for both of us. Something with no established roles, no routines, no history. Just the two of us figuring something out together.
Gerald suggested a road trip through the national parks of the American West. I said yes before I'd even thought it through.
What We Planned
We gave ourselves 14 days. We chose four parks we'd never visited: Zion, Bryce Canyon, Capitol Reef, and Arches. We booked nothing except the first night's hotel. Everything else we'd decide as we went.
For two people who had planned every vacation for four decades around school schedules and budget constraints and who-can-get-the-time-off, this was almost more frightening than the trip itself.
What Actually Happened
The first three days, we argued more than we had in years. Gerald drives too fast. I navigate with too many second-guesses. We had the same argument about the GPS we've had since 2004.
Then we stood at the rim of Bryce Canyon at sunrise, surrounded by thousands of orange hoodoos lit like candles in the early light, and both of us went completely silent.
We stood there for 20 minutes without saying a word. Gerald took my hand.
After that, something loosened.
What We Found
We found that when there are no obligations and no routines, you remember why you liked each other. We spent hours in the car talking, really talking, the way we used to on long drives before there were phones, about things we hadn't discussed in years. Our fears about getting older. What we still wanted to do. What we were grateful for.
We hiked more than we expected. Gerald has bad knees; I have bad ankles. We took the shorter trails slowly and made jokes about each other's complaints and felt, for the first time in years, like partners in something genuinely shared.
We're Going Back
We've already planned next year's trip: the northern parks, Glacier, Yellowstone, Grand Teton. Gerald has started a walking routine to prepare his knees. I've been studying wildflowers.
Our counselor asked how the trip went. I told her it might have been the most useful two weeks of our marriage. She did not seem surprised.
