Open letter from machinist’s wife

It’s 6 a.m. and the wind chill is -45° F. As I watch you get ready for work, your gait is a little slower these days, and I have to talk a little louder because your hearing is not as good after being around loud machinery for more than 30 years. After you go, I settle down with my tea and peruse your latest CTE column. I always try to read them, because you discuss your career, the places you’ve gone and the marvels you’ve seen. I come across the line, “I can’t wait to get to work each day.”

Having been a part of your career, I would like to share some of my insights and experiences. Being the wife of an engineer is different. For one, engineers are a quirky bunch. Not bad quirky, but sometimes it takes patience and fortitude to be married to one. Life is never dull.

You display your technical side when explaining things to laypeople like me. For example, if I ask how a remote setup works, you speak in a language I call “techno-eeze,” which consists of high-tech terms that leave me glassy-eyed and mind-boggled. The question “Why don’t you get it?” can send some marriages to divorce court.

Being married to an engineer means never buying inferior products. For example, assembling a kitchen island from a lesser-quality manufacturer will always produce one screw that wasn’t machined right, which you will then modify to your satisfaction. In addition, home remodeling is not for the faint of heart, as it requires CAD drawings, product procurement, QC and, most of all, project management so it comes in under budget and before the deadline.

I’m like the Marines: I must adapt, overcome and innovate. While you traveled the world, I have held down and sometimes packed up the fort. I used to think I could avoid moving by not hanging the last picture on the wall. It didn’t work. I have juggled my own career, moved with our two children, then teenagers, to three states and handled all the moving arrangements myself.