Yesterday we got to talk to our son via “Whereby” a wonderful program kind of like Facetime, that allows us to talk and see each other securely, even though we’re across the world from him. We don’t get to do it often because there is 12 hours difference in our time during part of the year, and 13 when we’re playing with Daylight Savings Time. We talk on our chat program on almost a daily basis, leaving messages, pictures, music, videos for each other, but it’s SO good to be able to SEE him.
I’m still grinning, feeling happy deep inside. He’s happy. He’s doing well. AND I watched him smile several times, and even laugh. Priceless.
Due to Covid restrictions on both ends, I’m not sure when we’ll actually get to have him home again. I don’t want him to risk anything just because of my greed in wanting lots of his world-winning hugs. To be able to communicate, and SEE him sometimes, is enough.
53 years ago today my husband and I tied the knot, ‘jumped over the broom,’ promised to have and to hold for better or for worse… Actually, we had a less conventional ceremony, using a poem by Kalil Gibran which essentially said we promised we wouldn’t “drink from the same cup. “
53 years later we’re still together, still not drinking from the same cup, and we haven’t killed each other yet. I’ve casually mentioned to him from time to time that I have our backhoe guy on speed dial to dig a hole for my husband in the back yard, but haven’t actually contracted for the job yet.
Marriage is hard. It’s a work in progress that is never finished. When two real people marry, they are actually promising to do their very best to let – and encourage each other – to grow and change – and then deal with those changes the best way they can.
When two very different people marry, it’s even more of a job. My husband and I don’t even use the same salt. On most subjects we disagree. Sometimes we have trouble agreeing whether the sun is shining or not – and yet we love – even more than we did 53+ years ago when I thought my young heart would simply burst with it.
We’ve shared wonderful things and really bad things and made it through. As much as I think about contracting for that hole, I’m addicted to him. He knows all the buttons to push to drive me crazy and yet he can still make me melt with just a look. And the amazing thing is that he still loves me, too.
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Two very imperfect people promised to spend their lives together. Two people created two little babies. Two people lost one of them and thought they would die of grief. Two people became even stronger in order to help each other through and raise their wonderful little boy. Two people whose buttons burst with pride about the caring man he is today. Two imperfect people sharing their lives.
Sometimes we feel so close my heart spills over. Other times we need lots of space, patience, and metaphoric band-aids. Marriage is the hardest job there is, but I can’t imagine one more important. Sometimes I feel marriage is a gift. Other times we deserve awards for NOT digging that hole in the back yard for each other.
We ‘renewed our option’ for another 50 years in 2019, throwing caution to the winds and deciding that this marriage might stand the test of time. Happy anniversary to us. May our laughter continue.
“When I say I love you more, I don’t mean I love you more than you love me. I mean I love you more than the bad days ahead of us, I love you more than any fight we will ever have. I love you more than the distance between us, I love you more than any obstacle that could try and come between us. I love you the most.” – Unknown
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