Back in April, I wrote an article about my relationship with my boyfriend and how we navigate a long distance relationship. I showed my grandmother the article, and in classic grandmother fashion, she thought it was the sweetest thing she’d ever read.
The vast majority of my advice from that article was about how great it was to be comfortable living our separate lives while being long distance. We had the least amount of trouble when we were the furthest away from each other, when I studied abroad in Prague and he was in college. I traveled as much as I could while I was in Europe and he was engulfed with his senior year – it was exciting and fun for both of us and, although we missed each other, being occupied made it much easier.
My grandmother told me a story about when my grandfather and her went through a period of long distance, all the way back when she was around 19 years old, when they still lived in Cuba. My grandmother was a teacher, and the Cuban government promoted a program where teachers could choose to work in rural areas that did not have schools. After my grandmother’s father agreed, she was assigned to a school.
The school was too far to commute, so she had to stay at the school during the week then go home on the weekends. The journey was not an easy one – she had to take two buses and a car into the countryside. The first time she arrived, she said she looked up at the top of the hills and saw a small house by itself. She told the driver that she couldn’t imagine anyone living in such a remote area. He looked at her, paused and told her that was the schoolhouse she was teaching in. They rode on horseback the rest of the way up.
Hearing that story put into perspective the amount of trust and commitment it must have taken to maintain a relationship long distance prior to the constant communication we have now. I asked my grandmother about how difficult that situation must have been, not speaking for days at a time and hoping that they arrive when they’re supposed to at the end of the week. She told me that it actually wasn’t as challenging as I assumed. The concept of that level of communication didn’t exist; so she did not feel that there was an alternative and she was not missing out on anything. Not speaking for days at a time did not impact the relationship in the way it likely would now.
There’s a level of romance in the story my grandmother told me that the constant communication our phones offer us now prevents. There’s beauty in reuniting after time away, writing letters or waiting on the possibility of the phone ringing. I wouldn’t give up a FaceTime call to catch up after a long day anymore, but it is incredible to know that it is possible to maintain a long distance relationship even without the technology we have now.
Is the level of communication we have now preventing us from experiencing the romance of our grandparents? Or, do we count ourselves now as the lucky ones – we can see our loved ones virtually whenever we want? Hard to say. All I know is that my experience with a long distance relationship opened up a story and a perspective I didn’t consider that I am now all the more grateful to have.
