Early in our marriage, my wife asked me why I couldn’t be more like her Dad (Apa). She went on to say, the key to his marital bliss was he never fought or even disagreed with her Mom (Oma). My one word retort, “bull$#!+”, elicited a glimmer of a smile from Hyesuk. Human beings fight. We have a selfish nature and often just misunderstand each other. One lesson I did pick up from her Apa was steering clear of direct conflict when possible and avoiding battles on unimportant matters. I’ve always been curious if he started out that way or just adapted to survive.
I know without a doubt where Hyesuk’s negotiation, sales, and quarrelling skills came from. Her Oma was one of the sweetest people ever, but she was also quite capable of expertly exercising a vast repertoire of strategies and unleashing a wide spectrum of emotions to achieve her purposes. Fortunately, I was only witness to the application of her skill on others and I can honestly say I never had a single disagreement with her. I doubt there are few men alive who can say they’ve never been at odds with their "Omani"-in-Law and I’m encouraged by the possibility that Hyesuk will eventually mature into the same charming woman. (I’m also looking forward to her response when she reads this paragraph). While Hyesuk has always been a formidable foe when it comes to a scrap, I’ve made considerable progress over the years. A few months back she jokingly told me she “regrets ever teaching me to fight.”
“Fighting Cups”® - Contrary to Hyesuk’s misguided belief that I’ve learned everything I know about squabbling from her; I’ve also had a few ideas of my own. While perusing through a house wares shop near our home with my daughter Laura, a flash of inspiration suddenly interrupted my agitation over ever having been dragged into the place. Even if they’d been engulfed in the warm glow of a halo, my enthusiasm over catching sight of the “Fighting Cups”® wouldn’t have increased in the slightest. Sudden inspiration is a wonderful thing, and I was certain I’d found the answer to one of the world’s oldest problems. Since the cups were also very inexpensive, I purchased two. On the walk back to our apartment, I even envisioned the possibility of realizing a fortune marketing my solution to the world.
Imagine this… at the onset of conflict, the offended party takes out the “Fighting Cups”®, makes a pot of coffee, and then sits down at the kitchen table with their spouse to calmly work out the disagreement. Performing this simple act of kindness provides an opportunity for emotions to dissipate and sets the stage for both parties to enter into the subsequent dialogue from a loving perspective. After everything is gracefully worked out, the “Fighting Cups”® are cleaned and put back in the cupboard. The retail package would contain two cups, a brief but motivating instruction manual, and a picture, on the packaging, of a couple holding the cups and intently working through their issues. However, when the first opportunity to finally use the cups availed itself, the results weren’t even close to what I’d expected. I’ll leave the details up to your imagination of how one of the cups was “accidently” dropped in an unfortunate kitchen incident. Thomas Edison didn’t succeed on his first attempt to create the light bulb, and I still haven’t totally given up on the “Fighting Cups”® trademark rights or underlying concept. I purchased four more cups and sent them to Laura to find out if they are any good in roommate disputes.
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| This picture of Hyesuk serving cake is from another Valentine's Day banquet at Misawa Baptist Church |
A Valentines Day Message – Hyesuk and I often (still do) quibbled over room temperature (she likes it stifling hot, while I prefer a cool, comfortable environment), finances, housework, and various other opportunities for disagreement, but I usually understood what was going on and neither of us viewed the conflict as earth shattering. However, the first big fight we ever had caught me totally off guard. Everything started out innocently enough.
Bobby and I were in the kitchen having a good old time making a modest homemade pizza. I’d pulled a chair up to the counter so Bobby could easily participate in putting the toppings on his half. I was putting on traditional favorites like olives, mushrooms, onions, and sausage. Bobby was adding stuff like anchovies, Cheerios, and raisins. Dividing the pizza into separate sections was a good idea. Hyesuk stopped by the kitchen on her way out to a night class and there were hugs and kisses for all. I bent slightly over to receive my share while a young Bobby, even standing on a chair, still had to stretch upward.
Later that evening, Hyesuk arrived home in a cheerful mood, checked if I’d misplaced either of her children (See “The Lost Lamb”), and went into the kitchen. Since I’d already done the dishes, I was surprised when she returned to the living room somewhat agitated. She asked me, “is there any pizza left?” When I told her we’d eaten it all, her agitation turned to anger followed closely by the sound of a slamming bedroom door. Heeding her warning not to enter the room, I offered through the closed door to make another pizza. I tried a little humor, “How many Cheerios and raisins would you like?” to no avail. I chocked up my first night on the couch to “Women are insane.” and was genuinely surprised when everything wasn’t back to normal the next morning. After my third night on the couch, I broke down and profusely apologized for my insensitivity. In my mind, I’d still done nothing wrong and I’m certain Hyesuk could sense the insincerity in my carefully crafted words. Regardless, I was forgiven. Like me, I’m sure she just wanted the conflict, silence, and separation to end. Years later, the clue bird finally landed.
While we lived in Misawa
The speaker began his message with a story. A Korean man and woman have been married for over thirty years and never spent a day apart, until the man is called away to a far away country on a business trip. Before going to bed he calls home to his wife. What do you think she says to him? He called on a few men and received answers like, “I miss you,” “I love you,” “How was your trip?” … He then asked one of the Korean women. Without hesitation she responded, “Did you eat?” He asked the wives what the next question would be, and one responded “What did you eat? He then asked what the last thing she’d say, and the answer was “Don’t miss any meals.” He then went on to explain the differences between Korean and American culture regarding food. In Korea
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| I hijacked this from a friend's Facebook Posting "'Understand Women' is finally out in paperback" |
Regular Milk – Like the pizza incident with her mother, my first big clash with my daughter Laura caught me completely off guard. I can’t remember what Hyesuk was doing that day or where she went, but once again I was left at home to fend for myself. While my stories may seem to lend the appearance that Hyesuk was never home and I couldn’t take care of the house when she was out, neither is true. Hyesuk was actually home most of the time and the vast majority of my successful days are way to boring to ever write about. The story starts at lunchtime.
I’d prepared a simple meal and set the table. When the kids were seated, I asked, “Would you like chocolate or white milk to drink?” Bobby requested chocolate and Laura asked for regular. Bobby accepted his drink with indifference, but when I placed the white milk in front of my four-year-old daughter, I received tearing eyes, folded arms, a stern face, and a view of her backside as she stormed out of the room. She refused all my attempts to coax, threaten, and cajole her into coming back to the table to eat her lunch. All day long I tried to pry out what was wrong, but she’d have nothing to do with me. I was relieved when my wife finally came through the door.
Hyesuk went with Laura into her room to find out what was wrong. I suspect she gave some sort of “all men are idiots and we have to learn to put up with them” speech. When they came out Laura still wasn’t very warm to me, but I could tell she was finally heading back in the right direction. Later that evening, Hyesuk filled me in on what I’d done. In a quivering voice, Laura had told her mother, “I asked for regular milk and Dad gave me white milk.” Unknown to me, Hyesuk and her daughter often prepared a special mixture of chocolate and white milk they called “regular” milk. Laura expected to receive the same personal attention her Mom provided and was hurt when she thought I was disregarding her feelings.
If I could go back in time, I still wouldn’t give Laura “regular” milk or even the meal I most likely prepared that day. I’d prepare her a meal of Naan bread with humus and an olive, avocado, tomato, and cucumber salad. Her beverage choice would be between cranberry and pomegranate juice. We can’t go back and erase our mistakes, but we can always try to please the person we know today.
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| The spark that sent me down this path. Thanks Cassa. |
While some of our conflict is actually humorous and makes for good stories around the dining table, incidents causing genuine pain are another matter. The moment we open our heart to someone, we’ve opened ourselves up to being hurt. Many of the wrongs we wreak on each other don’t just go away when the initial emotional response subsides. Our words and actions can seriously injure those we love and leave permanent scars. It is hard to let things go, especially when you’re the injured party. Reopening old wounds or continuing on with destructive behavior eventually destroys all trust and intimacy. How do we forgive?
I don’t want to write about, or ever repeat, the harmful sins I’ve committed. I also don’t want to store any anger in my heart over the damage others have inflicted on me or to make them pay again for a debt no longer owed. I want to forgive and be forgiven, because I value those I love and don’t want to lose them. I know it’s the only path to happiness. How do we not forgive?
