People Share About Shalom Bayit

Could others see the countless tiny strands of their separate anxieties silently knitting them together? Did anyone notice how, though they sat on separate chairs not touching, they sat as close as two people could without touching?

My favorite is a dozen or more long-stemmed, freshly cut red roses. But a bouquet of any assortment will bring a smile to my face. My husband knows of this weakness of mine, and uses it to his advantage.

The older I get the more apparent my lies have become. I barely believe myself anymore, especially when I make grand statements like, "I’ll never do or say that again." Too often the future robs me of my honesty

We can discuss the rational merits of my argument until we're both blue in the face. But even more important is to understand why we are in this discussion to begin with

My daughter asks difficult questions about why we divorced and if I hate her father. For now I lie, but it is only a matter of time until she learns the truth about our marriage.

That moment made it clear to both of us: I’m committed to you, and you’re committed to me, and an argument won’t change things.

Through trial and error, and now years of experience, I’ve come to realize that communicating is not about talking and “listening”; it’s about understanding.

We don’t do anything. There's something in the atmosphere and experience that takes away the ability to concentrate or focus. One’s greatest desire is simply to not be there, to not be doing this, and to have it be over with as quickly as possible . . .

Neither parent seemed to notice the presence of their young daughter in the entranceway. I was only ten at the time, but my sensitive nature detected that the room was full of their love for each other . . .

When I was able to finally meet my husband's grandparents who could not travel to the wedding, my entire outlook on the fragileness of love was challenged forever...