My parents never had conflict over who did what. They were in love until my father died; when one needed help, the other somehow knew and moved in closely beside the other to lend a helping hand. My mother rarely needed to ask. They were always there for each other, regardless. Being together was enough; working together was a joy. Part of sharing a life together is the fun of working together. Does not matter so much what we are doing together; only that we are together doing it.