Much of the objection to my last post stems from a misunderstanding of what constitutes closeness between a husband and wife.
What closeness is
Cane’s description of the laugh he shared with his wife after church is a perfect example of closeness.
Today, after church, I was sitting on the edge of the bed and staring into the closet. I was thinking on how better to foster peace among my sometimes unruly children. Mrs. Caldo, seeing me, inquired again what I was thinking about. I replied, “I’m calculating the cost to cover the entire house in 1’2″ steel plating.” We laughed. Together.
He was thinking of something which concerned him. His wife no doubt had a pretty good guess what it was; they have been married for many years, not to mention that parenting is a shared concern. When she asked, he joked about something he wasn’t concerned about, and they shared a moment of closeness. Closeness doesn’t come from the sort of over talking Opus notes as a distasteful American habit. Husbands and wives share the ultimate closeness, the mystery of one flesh, and this doesn’t require a single word.
It isn’t that talking isn’t important, but that we have elevated talking and especially emoting to perverse levels. Part of this is the misconception that communication means talking, instead of talking merely being one of many ways to communicate. Part of this is the absurd notion that marital sex needs to be purified through various oprahfications. Closeness can be talking non stop about the funny or fascinating things the two of you experienced during your respective days, or is can be two words bringing back a shared memory about something one of the children did long ago. At times closeness can also be feeling perfectly comfortable not saying a word. Closeness can mean walking up and silently rubbing your spouse’s shoulders because you know that this is something they need. It can mean all of these things, and more.
What closeness is not