Sharing the gift ...of a life together
A WEEK ago my husband Robin went on a jaunt with his friend to the Vintage Motorcycle Club Auto Jumble at Shepton Mallet in Somerset — and came back looking excited. ‘I bought you a present!’ he said, delving into his pocket.
Hearing the magic word ‘present’ some women might expect (say) a pair of earrings or a rose — and certainly flowers, chocs, scented candles, trinkets and jewels are right up my street. But from a bike show? Hardly.
With a flourish he pulled out a little paperback published when I was ten. The Daily Mail’s comprehensive guide to motorcycles proved that this newspaper always has its finger on the pulse of what British people want! My father and Uncle Dan rode motorcycles and so did a huge number of British people, making the industry great.
I love my little vintage book, which contains a picture of the sidecar I rode around in as a child. It also provides a little message about marriage. For my birthday Robin found me (in a charity shop) the vintage 50s board game Scoop — all about journalism. I love it more than anything expensive. And now it’s a 1956 DM motorcycle guide! Both presents cost very little money yet show imagination. Both reveal why our marriage works.
In many ways we are opposites: an unlikely pair. I’ve never believed couples should share every interest — although it’s great when you do. What’s vital is to have respect and curiosity about your partner’s.
I’ve dragged myself around aircraft and motorcycle museums with Robin and he will always flog up a hill to visit yet another church in a place like Lisbon.
The point is we both get to appreciate what the other likes. That’s all it takes . . . well, not quite ‘ all’, of course. But the tolerant, entertaining sharing takes you a long way towards the companionable contentment that’s the best of marriage.
Bel answers readers’ questions on emotional and relationship problems each week. Write to Bel Mooney, Daily Mail, 2 Derry Street, london W8 5TT, or email bel.mooney@dailymail.co.uk. Names are changed to protect identities. Bel reads all letters but regrets she cannot enter into personal correspondence.