--- title: Improvement Era description: Monthly periodical of the Mormon church, 1897 onward. This library holds the issues of November 1897 to December 1930. authors: - Jordan, William George collections: - periodicals tags: - magazine - improvement-era periodical: Improvement Era volume: 16 number: 7 published: 1913-05 publisher: Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations publisher_place: Salt Lake City language: en type: magazine reference: 'Jordan, William George, "Little Problems of Married Life: XX—The Ebb-Tide of Love," *Improvement Era* 16, no. 7 (May 1913): 660–663.' source: url: https://archive.org/details/improvementera1607unse transcription: Transcribed from the Internet Archive scan of each issue (the item for each issue is named in the issue's own source); unnumbered advertising leaves are omitted, printed page numbers are kept as page markers. identifier: improvementera1607unse start_page: 660 end_page: 663 rights: status: public-domain basis: US publication 1930 or earlier (published 1913-05) source: https://archive.org/details/improvementera1607unse publication_year: 1913 note: The Internet Archive item metadata carries a blanket "© Copyright by Intellectual Reserve, Inc." notice. The library owner judged it inapplicable because this issue was published in 1913, before 1931; a scan-level notice does not restore copyright. --- # Little Problems of Married Life: XX—The Ebb-Tide of Love Little Problems of Married Life RY WILLIAM GEORGE TORDAN XX— The Ebb-Tide of Love The saddest thing in married life is the drifting apart of those who have lived and loved for years in the sunshine of each other's presence. It is just a heart tragedy in the life of two. The greatest trials of life are not those which come to us from the world outside the home, but those from the world within. With the inspiring pressure of "the hand we love held tight in our own, the battle of life can be borne bravely, but when the refuge of love and mutual respect and esteem is swept away, the very bulwarks of the home seem gone. Occasional discords, misunderstandings and little clouds of unhappiness, may not be serious. The sun of reconciliation may scatter them, and in the balmy atmosphere that follows they may be forgotten. But it is different when love itself grows cold, and respect for each other, which is so able an understudy to love, goes on a long vacation. Then inharmonies intensify as the days go by ; antagonism on the basic questions of life grows more bitter; grim, hopeless silence takes the place of speech, or the atmosphere becomes vitiated by hot words of recrimination and contempt. There is sometimes an indignant outburst of anger at white heat that is not so awful as it seems. It may be the fierce flame of protest from the heart that shows the fire of love is still burning; but constant, cold, dead sarcasm and bitterness speak only of embers. This condition is not a matrimonial duet ; it is a matrimonial duel. When either husband or wife speaks woids meant to sting, phrases seemingly innocent to others hearing them, but which are deftly loaded to annoy or madden as they relentlessly find their way through the vulnerable point in the armor, it is time for those two to declare a truce and to hold a speedy peace conference or there will not be enough love left to hold an inquest over. They may even grow to hate each other's ways, moods, acts, and turns of speech. The voice once loved may now sound shrill and hard ; the step on the stair which was sweet music may seem a jarring discord, and the rippling laughter may strike only a vibrating note of vague rebellion. This surely shows Cupid is getting ready for a post-mortem and a dead happiness will soon be buried. *Copyriglit. 1010. hv Firming H. Revcll Cnmpnny LITTLE PROBLEMS OF MARRIED LIFE 661 Sometimes the growing separation is on one side only, and one still loves with the old intensity and the old heart-hunger. As absence is always harder for the one left behind, so this twilight of love is most painful to the one whose love is still constant. It is the dead nerve that carries no pain. The finer nature suffers most in life, as variations in temperature that may disturb the sensitive soul of a violin are powerless to affect brass cymbals. There may be a conscious effort on the part of the one who Joves to disbelieve in the growing separation — not to credit it, not to realize it. nor to accept it for a moment as a possibility. But sometimes a word, a look, a sentence or an act makes further selfillusion folly, as a lightning flash may reveal to a traveler an abyss at his feet. The smile that was the light of our life no longer cheers us ; the caresses that told of love unstinted are withheld ; the tenderness that seemed as sure as sunrise or sunset has turned to doubt, and the one who still loves may battle hopelessly when all life around him seems to move in a fog. At such times despite every wisdom of heajt and mind, one can never say the right word or do the right thing. Heart-strings of sentiment, that once vibrated at the slightest touch and brought out in an instant a flood of music from the finest memories of the soul, are now mute. No explanations, no pleas, no baring of one's very heart, no illumination of the subtlest windings of thought and emotion can vanquish that vague something that separates. We may stand broken-hearted by a wall of separation made up of gossip, fear, doubt, suspicion, injustice, and misunderstanding, with that most helpless of all despairs when we see love that was our whole life, and still is all that makes life worth living, swept away as one would watch from a distance a boat carrying a loved one swept by the rapids over an engulfing cataract. This is the time when memories of past joy rise like ghosts and bring only pangs of pain, when love's dead roses leave us only the thorns. Love rarely dies a sudden death. It is usually ailing a long time before its decease. Little ills that could readily be cured in their early stages are permitted to run into more serious conditions ; complications set in, and love, with its vitality exhausted through long suffering, finally dies. Love's neglected colds often develop into consumption. Prompt treatment with a little unselfish care, tender watchfulness and cheerful, patient nursing may restore love to perfect health. The great things that separate two who have loved are usually only trifles grown big and tyrannous through being ignored, basic evils in the character, temperament or disposition of either that should be silenced and conquered in the best interests of both. Even disloyalty may be only the climax-form that heart-hunger 662 IMPROVEMENT ERA neglect, loneliness, jealousy, vanity gone to seed, revolt from an atmosphere of nagging monotony, unsatisfied longing for sympathy, injustice, idleness, long-suffering, or a dozen other phases may finally assume. Any of these may furnish the soil in which it finds root and sustenance. Sometimes it is the fault of one ; sometimes husband and wife both are to blame. The "innocent" one is often unknowingly, and perhaps even recklessly, an accessory before the fact. The way to prevent the ebb-tide of love is to determine at the very start of married life that there will be no ebb-tide. Sometimes husband and wife, really loving each other as of old, wander blunderingly apart through pettiness, pique, false pride or misunderstanding. Often with hands outstretched in the darkness, just hungering for each other, almost touching, when a motion, a smile, a term of endearment, a love-light in the eyes of either, would bring them conquered and submissive in each other's arms, yet a recklessly indiscreet word, a mean taunt, a psychic moment of possibility passed by unheeded, or a silence that seems cruel, may drive them still further apart. The stream of fine sentimenc and heart emotion should sweep them out of themselves ; sometimes it backs water and engulfs them. It really seems that some people do not want happiness or they would not dodge it so successfully, and begrudge the trifles it takes to secure it. People who would be shocked at the bare thought of actually destroying a two-dollar bill often toss idly aside the happiness of two for the merest trifle. Life is too short and love too great to sacrifice one hour through pettiness. What matters it whose the fault or whose the forgiveness? It is a very poor brand of personal dignity that dares to throw its desecrating shadow between them and the joy of reconciliation and new bonds of love. When the realization of the waning of love comes, the two should seek to forget for a moment the differences, the saddening changes, the cemetery of dead memories and buried emotions, and try to get back somehow to some common ground of unity and understanding. They should seek to gather together the trifles of sacred things not yet lost. In the thought of these there may be a vitalizing flame of the old love flashing out from the dull gray of the ashes that will burn away the dross of discord and misunderstanding. Afgument itself rarely counts ; this is but an intellectual appeal ; what is needed is an emotional inspiration. We should recognize conditions fully for our own guidance in action, but it is not wise to make evident our pain by pleas and protests. Cruel words meant to sting can be neutralized to a degree by showingno sign of being affected by them. There is a yellow streak of cruelty in love grown cold ; it likes the cringing that shows its LITTLE PROBLEMS OF MARRIED LIFE 663 power. Studied neglect and cool indifference are rarely continued if they are received with an innocent absorption or preoccupation they cannot penetrate. There is really little fun shooting with these blank cartridges. An unexpected kindness, a note of tenderness in speech or act, the regenerating influence of the sweet sentiment and graceful attention of the earlier days of loving, may melt a mood of opposition that any argument would solidify as heat sets clay. Trying to get back to the fork of the road where parting came may illuminate life and show the insidious element that keeps apart two who should love each other. In the care of a garden there is a twofold duty — the elimination of the weeds and the planting of the flowers. In the home life the dual duty is specially vital ; when discord reigns there should be at least the negative virtue of avoiding subjects of inharmony, of cutting off those things that intensify differences, of stopping the fire of verbal grapeshot that sting like needles. It is a time for antidotes, and if you cannot possibly give an antidote, in mercy give a poultice — not a blister. It is the hour when two people should work overtime making allowances for each other, and pack their sense of wounded personal dignity away for the season in tar-paper, for it is in the way during such a crisis. In a storm at sea everything is sacrificed to save the ship ; personal discomfort, suffering, trial, hardship — all count for nothing if the vessel itself with its people be kept afloat. When the life-haopiness of two hangs in the balance, when love is sinking in a night of doubt, there should be a supreme effort to save the ship. Throw over pride, self-will, pique, dignity, fear, selfishness, all little pet vices if necessary, sacrifice every wrong and even minor rights — iust to save the ship. Love is the most valuable cargo on the ship of life. It is the greatest thing in this world and the only thing that will make the next worth the living. The ebb-tide of love is the saddest thing in a true individual life. It is a life's folly to let love die if aught we can do will keep it real and living. ["Holding Monotony at Bay" is the title of the next article in this series.] They had just renewed their acquaintance after five years. "Ton my word, Miss Weatherby," he said frankly, "I should hardly have known you, you have altered so much." "For the better or for the worse?" she asked with an arch look. "Ah, my dear girl," he said gallantly, "you could only change for the better!"