Taking On The Future


Lately, I have slowly come out of a depressive mood. It was brought on by the sudden need for kidney dialysis, causing the cancellation of a much anticipated trip to Italy. Something I had dreamed of doing for many years, but mostly something I wanted to do with the love of my life after finally overcoming the distance between us brought on by the loss of our son, the natural slipping between two people who take each other for granted, and the process of an aging relationship. I was looking forward to the special time alone in the city we both love.

We were within days of getting on the airplane when I came down with an illness that threw my body into chronic kidney failure. I was furious with myself for allowing myself to get into such a state, and I was miserable with guilt for ruining our trip. I cried, ranted, and fell into despair. I felt like I had failed both of us. I knew he didn’t blame me and all he cared about was that I got better. He wasn’t angry, and he loved me no matter what. But those of you who suffer from depression understand that logic has nothing to do with the feelings that lead to depression. I was a failure, once again. Damn it all.

Over the past two months, my new normal has taken most of my time. Quite frankly, I hate being tied to a damned machine four hours a day for three days a week. It creeps me out to think that it must remove all my blood, clean it, and put it back just to keep me alive and mostly well. So, the depression had a strong element of anger mixed in. The anger was mostly directed at myself, no logic involved there, of course. This was not what I had planned for this stage in our lives.

Being tied to a machine makes me feel less that attractive, and having this thing in my chest is down right disgusting to me. Absolutely kills any thoughts of sexy or desirability. It has a huge ick factor going for it as far as I am concerned. The Mr. keeps telling me he doesn’t care, as long as I am getting benefit from the treatment, I can have all the bits I need attached and he will still want to chase me down the hall to the bedroom. What did I do to deserve such a man?

Now, here I am two months down the road and I am slowly, finally, crawling out of the depression hole I dug for myself. The good news is I have lost another nineteen pounds, my A1C is one point above normal, my stats are all good, and I am improving daily. I am less exhausted each day after treatment, and there is hope, albeit slim, that I can come off the machine at some point.

Sometime in the future perhaps we can plan our romantic holiday again. I hope so. But until then, I just need to get over myself and learn to accept what is in my life. And let the Mr. chase me down the hall no matter how I feel about how I look. After all, he loves me like I am, I guess I should learn to love myself too. Time to give myself a swift kick in the attitude and take on the future once again.

Advertisements

Planning The Future


Addie wandered into my office holding her favorite baby doll. She needed help with the tiny buttons on the dress it was wearing. As I helped her we fell into conversation, as we always do.

Addie said, “Nana, when I grow up I want to have two girl babies.”

I said, “What about having a boy baby? It could happen you know.”

A: “Nope, I don’t want a boy baby, they are messy and loud. Besides, I don’t like boys.” (She is six.)

Me: “Well I had two boy babies, and I loved them very much. You might feel the same way.”

A: “No I won’t. I only want girl babies.”

M: “Keep in mind that you need a husband to have any babies. To do that, you will need to love him too. Just like I love your Papa.”

A: “Oh, yeah. I know that.” Long pause. “Well maybe just one boy baby, because my husband will probably want one since we will have two girls. But the Dad can take care of the boy, since I have no idea how to do that after they are little babies.”

M: “That would be a good compromise. But I bet you will love your boy baby as much as you will love your girls. Any baby is hard work, but it is worth every minute of your time and effort.”

A: “Oh I know that, Nana. You worked hard to raise my Grandpa Arron and Uncle Riley. and my Mommy, and now you work hard to raise me. I want to be just like you when I am a mommy.”

Me: Blinking back tears. “Oh Addie, I love you very much. I simply want you to be who you are and do what you want with your life.”

A: “I know, Nana. You will always love me all my life. So will Papa.”

With that, she wandered off to change her baby doll’s diaper. I heard her singing a song to rock it to sleep. In so many ways, I see her copy behavior she has seen from me and her Papa. It warms my heart and fills me with hope for the future, and she will eventually soften her attitude on boys. At six, all little girls find boys hard to understand. They are loud, dirty, and messy, but that is all part of being a boy learning to be a man. Just as she is a girl learning how to be a woman. Today she wants to be a mommy, tomorrow, she may want to be a unicorn or a fairy. Either way, we encourage her to discover her imagination, grow as she wants to grow, and love her no matter what. She is our angel baby, and one day, she will be a mommy who knows how to care for and love her children. She makes us proud every day.

Toxic Male


I am married to a toxic male. There, I said it.

And I thank God every day for him. I know it isn’t the in thing to want to be with a man and not feel required to change him from an uninhibited male, but something between gay and a metro-sexual pretty boy. But he is exactly what the real woman in me needs and wants in my life.

Let me tell you some of the things my toxic male does that drives the far left folks insane.

He has a job. A real job that pays all the bills and then some. He has held a job every day since we got married nearly 48 years a go. During all the years he has worked, he has built his career in such a way that we will always be provided for, and when he retires we will have a small business to keep him busy and provide income. To him, it is the responsibility of a man to provide for his family.

He was a hands on father and is an involved grandfather who loves all our progeny. He has taught them to be strong people who are able to think for themselves and determine who and what they are in life without depending on popular culture to tell them what to do. Because of his leadership as the head of our family, our children and grandchildren come to him to talk over their decisions and life issues. He gives them advice then gets out of the way and lets them follow their own paths. Because he believes that is how a man should treat his family.

He is my equal in all things. Not only does he work outside the home, he helps me in the home. He has always helped with the kids, but he also helps with the housework, especially since I have had health issues. For decades, he has always done the dishes. I cook, he cleans. He does laundry, and cleans when needed. And he does all the vacuuming of the floors, since it is a chore I hate doing. In short, he takes up my slack, and being a man, he takes care of me. Above all, my toxic male has encouraged me to do what I wanted and supported me in all things. He is my biggest fan and he believes in me when I falter in my goals. He thinks I am something special, even when I don’t. He loves me, and treats me like I am a treasure because he believes no man is complete without a woman who loves him as much as he loves her.

He protects our home and family. He believes it is his responsibility to make sure we are safe from harm from others. He made sure all of us are trained in how to use weapons to protect ourselves if he is not present. He made sure that our home is protected by installing alarms and equipment to insure our security. And he stands between all of us and the evil out there in the world, ready to take up arms and do what must be done to ensure our safety. Because that’s what a man does, he protects his home and his loved ones.

He is religious, believing in his God and in the church in which he is a member. He stands as the head of our family, holding me by his side as his equal as he teaches our family how to stand firm in their beliefs as well. Although we do not expect our family to follow blindly, we do always offer them a place to learn and worship as needed. He does this because he firmly believes a man must set an example for others to follow, and he must stand by that example – always.

Like many toxic males, he loves guns, rides motorcycles, loves the outdoors, and enjoys hanging out with other males, mostly his brothers. He is political, staunchly conservative, patriotic, and loves America for all it stands for and does for the world. He is unwavering in his standards as an American. And he is this way because that is what a man, a strong independent male, does.

My man is a toxic male according to the leftist agenda. I can guarantee every single woman out there who has to put up with the cry baby males of the left envies every last one of us women who has a real man in her life who isn’t ashamed to be an uninhibited male. I know I am thankful to have mine.

Trying To Explain Love


Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day. The one day for lovers on the calendar world wide. I find that phenomenal. Of course, it is commercially driven, but the idea of love being celebrated makes me smile. Every year I search for the perfect gift for the love of my life. Every year I end up getting him something boring, like a wrist watch. What I want to give him is something that represents the love I have for him, the memories we share, and the passion that we have for one another. How can I find that and wrap it up in a bow? I get tongue tied when I try to use words, and even though I write them down, it still comes out stilted and awkward. I can bring myself to a bright red blush trying to explain what our marriage means to me. I often use music to describe my feelings, my needs. And that works to a point, but I still feel that I don’t quite make the point. He knows I love him, but I don’t know that he understands how much more there is in my soul.
 
Today, the words soulmate is bandied about a lot. I suppose we are soulmates, but like all lovers, we started out as two very young people who were attracted to each other, and we enjoyed time together. We made each other laugh a lot, and we discovered passion together. He was my first and only love, and he always will be. Through the years, we have fallen in and out of love many times, until we learned, at last, that we were destined for each other, good or bad, and that our souls and hearts were intertwined so closely that without one another we weren’t fully able to find happiness. He is my soulmate, lover, closest friend, confidant, and the one person I can pick a fight with who will stand up to me, forgive me, and still love me through good and bad.
 
He believes in me. He pushes me to the next level when I falter and give in to fear. He teaches me things, and he doesn’t laugh when I balk at taking a step into the unknown. He makes me laugh out loud, and he has taught me to laugh at myself and let go of the need to be perfect and simply be myself. He is the father of my sons, grandfather, and great grandfather to their progeny. His love for them makes me love him even more. He is my lover, who taught me how to be a woman. He is still able, after all these years together, to make my knees weak with his touch. It is how I always thought love was supposed to be.
 
Who knew a blind date all those years ago would lead us to this? Who knew that a soft kiss in the darkness of a drive in movie would bring us such long lasting passion? Who knew that as we neared the end of our lives we would cling to one another more and need each other as deeply as we do? We didn’t, neither of us expected a great and abiding love that would guide, design, and create our lives from young to old. But, here we are, forty-eight years after we met, still madly in love, and finding joy in one another.
 
I spent today listening to love songs, trying to find the perfect song to share with him on Valentine’s Day. There are hundreds we have heard over the years. So many bring memories, good and bad, tears and laughter that choosing one is nearly impossible. There are the love songs from the days we met. There are songs from when we were parents of young children, songs that we listened to when we were trying to navigate the distance that grew between us, songs that we danced to, songs that made us look at each other with tenderness. How does someone hopelessly in love choose only one song when every song seems to speak my feelings? I can only try. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sJs5cT4HwjA
 
Happy Valentine’s Day, to all lovers out there and especially to the love of my life.

How Do You Do It?


My friend asked me, “How do you do it?” “Do what?” I replied. “Keep your marriage growing.” “Ah, well, its different for everyone. I can tell you what works for us, but it might not work for you.” She thought about it for a minute, “So tell me anyway. I want to know, maybe it will give me inspiration so we can make it as a couple for 47 years too.” I asked her to give me a few days to think about it. I am not a marriage counselor, I am certainly not a shrink. I’m just a quickly aging female who isn’t willing to sit down and shut up when others don’t want to hear my opinion. And, as my dear friend Bryan said, patience is not one of my attributes. He knows me far too well.

So, here we go. Stop here if you do not want unsolicited advice from a great grandmother.

I can tell you that there are hundreds of books for sale that will tell you their version of the truth. Most of them, however, will simply add to the confusion. At the end of the day, it is up to the couple, whatever that looks like, to find their own path. But they MUST find it together if they want marriage to work.

The first lesson is to Know Thy Self. No I am not quoting the scriptures to you, I am seriously saying, you have to know yourself before you can learn to love another. What you like, what you need, what you want in a lover, spouse, and the best friend you will ever have. And most of us poor saps haven’t a clue before the age of thirty. By then, of course, most of us are committed, and we love the person we chose to live our lives with. Sometimes deeply, sometimes conveniently, but we are committed.

Lesson Two, Keep your business between the two of you, and/or a professional counselor.

As you grow you change, sometimes in the most profound ways, sometimes superficially, but we all change. With change can come distance between us and the love of our lives. That leads to frustration, miscommunication, downright anger, and feelings of isolation. Now here is where most people, male and female, make a huge mistake. They take it to the gossip mill. Instead of going to their spouse or partner (I will use spouse to make typing easy) and talking things through, they go to their best pal, coworker, or family member if your a guy. A woman goes to her best friend, the ladies at the nail salon, or, heaven help all of them, their mother or sister for advice.

At this point, everything gets confused and every opinion will muddle things up even more. There is nothing that will strain an already difficult situation than for a woman to say to a man (or whomever), “Well My Mother Said…” The immediate response is generally, “You told your MOTHER?” It works the same from the other direction. There is a reason why “mother in law” is a dirty phrase in nearly every culture in the world. Because I can guarantee no one can stick their nose in and stir things up like a mother in law. Sure we all need someone to talk to. I suggest making it a professional who doesn’t have a personal interest in your life. Someone who isn’t going to take sides and pony up excuses instead of practical advice.

Lesson Three, Always put each other first. I can hear the shocked gasps from here.

Before children, before parents, before extended family, before friends, before jobs, before church, before Friday night poker games that have been ongoing since high school, your spouse comes first. Why? Well exactly who do you expect to spend the rest of your life with other than your spouse? One day the kids will grow up and leave home, hopefully. Your friends will drift away, your family will die and leave this mortal coil, and you two will be sitting across from one another, all alone, on your phones, ignoring each other. Okay, maybe not on the phone, but you will still have nothing to talk about if you don’t start building memories and adventures today.

Lesson Four, Kiss the Girl, or Guy. For no reason other than they still ring your bell. Go on, kiss her, in front of the kids, or anyone else standing there. Whisper loving words, or even silly words, in his ear. Make a promise for mind blowing love making, later. Make eye contact across the room, then smile, yes, that smile. Remember what made you want him or her in your arms and hang on to that memory as tight as you can for the times when it seems like one or both of you have lost interest. Take home flowers for her just because, or cook her a special meal, or give him a back rub while he complains about work. Do the little things that require physical contact. Fix his tie, smooth his jacket, hold her jacket for her, smooth a wayward lock of hair into place. Find any excuse to touch. Hold hands, Every. Where. You. Go. If that attraction fades away completely, you are in deep trouble and the further you drift, the harder it is to find each other again. Of course, there are couples that are destined to separate and divorce. It takes two in the endeavor, and if one is unwilling or unable to take part. The marriage will drift into the doldrums of the family court system.

Lesson Five, Dance in the Kitchen. My husband has two left feet, no sense of rhythm, and doesn’t understand the art of dance, At. All. But when I get upset or down, he puts on our favorite slow song, and we dance in the kitchen. Really, he just holds me and we sway to the music, but it is how we dance. I know this is his way of comforting me, he knows after I settle down, I will tell him what is hurting me. We are communicating love, comfort, and compassion without words. Maybe you won’t dance in the kitchen, maybe you will go out and shoot at tin cans, or make pizza together, or go for a walk, but each couple needs to find their comfort mechanism. That one thing they only do together that brings them close to one another, communicating without words. It’s a good thing.

Lesson Six, Take private time for romance. A weekend at the hotel down the road is good enough, if you don’t want to get too far from the kids. Why? Because every couple, admit it or not, need the excitement of a romantic get away. Give the hotel number to the sitter, turn off you phones, better yet, leave them in the car or at home. Spend the time alone, on a honeymoon, or if your having issues, as a marriage get away to talk things through. Romance is vital, VITAL to a lasting marriage. Once, my husband took me to Paris, France (We lived in London at the time.) and he kissed me in the rain, on top of the Eiffel Tower. It wasn’t an all out, I want to bed you right now, kind of kiss, it was a, soft, romantic, I love you, I’m glad I found you, kind of kiss. One that used to make ladies in a movie audience swoon. Now that is romantic. For me. For you, I have no idea what constitutes romantic, but make sure it stays alive between you all your lives.

Lesson Seven, Words Mean Things. Don’t say it unless you mean it. Even in the heat of a knock down drag out screaming argument, Don’t Say It unless you mean it. Because you can’t take back the hurt and shock of whatever it is, and once said, it has meaning that can resonate for years. Just don’t do it, words hurt more than a sharp sword. The damage can be fatal to a relationship. Dead and buried isn’t how most people want their marriage to end. Sometimes it is necessary, especially if there is infidelity or violence in the relationship. Being angry does not give a person the right to try to destroy another person with vicious words, lies, and gossip. Anger is not communication. Words mean things, good and bad. Be kind or Don’t say it.

Lesson Eight, Be gracious, be noble. When we first got married the Mr. and I would argue over stupid things. If I turned out right, I would gloat and rub it in that I was right. If I lost, I would pout and resent him. Talk about twisted. Be gracious in apologizing if you are wrong. Be noble in accepting that apology. Even if you insist you are right, be gracious and let it go, unless you love screaming at him or subjecting her to the silent treatment. Be noble, be willing to be wrong, be willing to apologize. Let go of the need to always control things, to always know everything. Men and women see things from a totally different point of view. I am five feet three inches tall. My husband is six feet one inch tall. I do not see the world from his perspective, nor does he see it from mine. Not unless we are willing to trade perspectives. I climb on a ladder, he sits in a chair, but come on, who always has that available? So we accept that each of us sees something differently, and we nobly, with grace, let it go. (Unless I get into a stubborn mode. You would think I would know better by now.)

Lesson Nine, It’s Okay To Cry. Nothing makes me cry faster than seeing a strong man cry. Because, ladies especially, for a strong man to cry, he has to break social expectations and give in to emotions. Men do NOT like that. They want to see a problem, analyze it, and fix it. If it is something they can’t fix, it confuses and frustrates them. It emasculates them in the deepest part of their foundation. We lost our son. It was horrific, sad, shocking to know a 21 year old was dead. Just gone. His life over. My beloved husband couldn’t fix it. He slid into shock, then into rage, then into a deep, long lasting depression. I got angry, got things done, buried our boy, and picked up the pieces of our life because that what a woman does, even while crying her eyes out. It wasn’t until my husband broke down and cried that I knew there would be a chance for our marriage to survive. He couldn’t fix it, he had to learn to accept the pain, the loss, the sorrow, and still go on living. It has made him a more tender, loving man. So, fellas, its okay to cry. The strongest of men are those who will allow themselves to cry in sorrow and in joy.

Lesson Ten, Nobody is perfect. No, you aren’t. Because if you were perfect, you wouldn’t need to be here struggling on earth. (Okay, there was a God pitch there, deal with it.) Both people in a relationship are flawed human beings. We say stupid things, do stupid things, hurt each other unknowingly and make mistakes. It isn’t a mistake to forsake your marriage vows, or try to maim one another, those are choices designed to end a marriage. Period. A mistake is making an inappropriate joke, telling your spouse something that will hurt them, and being so obtuse not to know. Imperfect means forgetting to say I love you when your spouse needs it. Imperfect is missing the cues she sends out that she is in need of a little tender loving care, and imperfect is to expect a man to catch those cues when they need explicit information to know how to act. (Note to females: Most guys only need to be told the parameters once, with an example, and careful instructions. From then on they will only need to be reminded with a code word.) Imperfect is to expect a man to understand female emotions, and imperfect is to expect a woman to understand that a man needs to FIX things instead of simply understanding and listening. But both come close to perfection when they try to see things as they really are and not through a cloud of emotion.

There is a lot more, small things, significant things that make a marriage work. Sometimes it requires judicial use of blinders, and a boat load of forgiveness. Sometimes it requires a huge sense of humor, and sometimes a hard line drawn in the sand. But, give it time, and most things can be sorted out. Two things are unforgivable: Physical or emotional violence, and infidelity. Either one is a deal breaker, and it can and will end a marriage.

To all my friends who are reaching the breaking point, breathe, look at your spouse, some where, deep inside both of you are the two people who fell in love once upon a time. Dig them out, dust them off, and let them rediscover each other in the older, wiser version of you.

And, that my friend, is how the Mr. and I manage to stay married after all these years.

A Moment Out Of Time


My husband and I were in Venice, Italy. He had a business conference and I went along. We had walked to St. Mark’s Square after a late dinner. We were standing in the crowd listening to music when a tall man, wearing an old fashioned cap, walked up to me and handed me a red rose. He asked if I spoke English. I said, yes. He bowed then said, “I heard your laughter. When I turned to see who was laughing, I did a true double take. You reminded me of someone I deeply loved that I recently lost. Your laughter is just like hers, filled with happiness and love. I give you the rose in remembrance of her, and to remind you to always love your man like you do now.” Before I could say a word, he bowed again and disappeared into the crowd. Tears filled my eyes, he sounded so sad, so lonely. I wanted to run after him and promise him I would always love my husband.

My husband was standing behind me while the man spoke to me. When he left, my husband, who had never shown an ounce of jealousy in all the years we had been married, nearly growled, “Who the hell was that? Why is he giving you a rose? I explained what happened. He was still glowering and grumbling about how guys shouldn’t give romantic roses to another guy’s wife on the way back to the hotel. I was girl enough to be secretly thrilled that he was jealous.

Something changed between my husband and I after that bitter sweet moment between the stranger and I. The fading romance between us was reignited, and a quick business trip to Venice became a second honeymoon. Today, years later, just the mention of Venice, makes us look at each other with that special smile. Every couple should have a Venice moment in their lives. A moment out of time where they can rekindle the romance and passion in their marriage.

To this day, I wonder about the stranger and hope he found a new love, because a man like that, who loved that deeply, deserves a woman who can love just as strong. Thank you stranger, for bringing back the love and joy between my man and I. I will always remember. I promise. God bless you.

All You Need Is More Than Love


I saw a sticker on a car that said, “All You Need Is Love.” It was printed with a tie-dye design, with lettering circa 1970’s. A very nostalgic, Magic Mushroom, vibe was attached to the meme like design. At first glance, it is a neat saying. But like most bumper sticker/meme tag lines, it falls down when logic is applied.

First of all, to whom or what does the “you” in the incomplete sentence apply? Me? People? Dogs? Aliens? What kind of love is needed? Is it needed, or wanted, and how will it change anything? Exactly what is the expected outcome of the love? How will it change or complete the life of the “you” mentioned in the blurb? I don’t know about most people, but I need a lot more than love in my life to exist, survive, be at peace, and live a healthy life.

To begin with, I need all the basics of survival. I need air, water, food, and shelter. Without those, love isn’t going to do me a bit of good. It won’t replace the need to breathe, and it sure won’t give me the moisture I need to replace what my body has to have to live. Water is one of those things that is more important that love. I can’t live without food either. Love won’t replace the energy I need to do things like walk and hunt for food and water. I can do without shelter as long as it isn’t too hot or cold. But if the weather changes, I need a place to get warm, and a fire will trump love in a contest of survival.

Love is a luxury when it comes to survival in the harsh reality of life. Before love became a “thing” everyone strives for, people came together who were compatible to survive together. A woman looked for a man who was strong, capable of protecting and hunting for the survival of the woman and offspring. It didn’t matter if he was sensitive and understanding, it didn’t matter if he was as ugly as a mud fence. It didn’t matter how well spoken, or how well dressed he was, what mattered was if he could do his share of work for the family. A man looked for a woman who could gather or grow food, medicine, and herbs that she would use to feed the family. She needed to know how to help dress out the animals he killed, build a fire and keep it going, cook, and take care of the illnesses that might come along. She didn’t have to be sexy, pretty, or wear the hottest new clothes. She needed to know how to nurture the family and the man who helped provide for her. They bonded by surviving and bearing children together. They took care of each other, and love wasn’t even a word in their vocabulary.

Love was a luxury between men and women who mated with each other via marriage and ceremony right up until the twentieth century. Only once survival wasn’t tied to living from hand to mouth, hunting and gathering, did love become part of the lexicon for couples. Oh, yes, it was bandied about for centuries, but when it came right down to it, survival was always more important. Women married successful men or married into successful families, men married for social advantages, and often for money. Love was for mistresses and lovers, not the spouse. Fidelity was a fluid commodity, often something that applied legally, but not morally, throughout many societies.

Then along came modern love. No longer did men and women need to marry or mate for survival, Movies, books, advertisements, media all made love a glowing part of finding a spouse or mate. Linked to that love was romance and sexual attraction. Suddenly the way a woman looked was more important than how she acted and what she could do. Men needed not only to be successful, they needed to be handsome, well built, and oh, my, sexy. When the two of them met, they had to be eye-crossing sexually attracted to one another. Then boom, love was in the air. That trend has continued since.

However, human beings cannot survive on love alone. We still must work together as a couple, whatever that looks like, to have air, food, water, and shelter today just as we have from the beginning of time. The way we get those may have changed, but we still have to support our partner and they have to support us in those endeavors. Many people still marry for protection, many join each other to maintain a healthy way of life. Some people marry because they are lonely, some because it is expected. At the end of the day, love is still a luxury, even a necessity, but everyone needs much more to survive and thrive.

This is one of my favorite love songs, from Fiddler on the Roof, Do You Love Me? Enjoy.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oSF8l_Yh_gY

Ten Minutes to Eternity


I love my husband. More than I did when I fell in, first lust, then love, with him forty-eight years ago. We were so young, headstrong, and sure of ourselves. We didn’t think about how getting married a year after we met would impact our lives, our families, or our future. We wanted to be together. And back then, even in the midst of the hippie free love era, we didn’t want to give in to the urges we had, we wanted to be a permanent couple. We wanted to belong to each other. So we ran away to elope on a hot June day. But no one would marry a nineteen year old boy and a sixteen year old girl. I ended up living with his parents while he lived in an apartment until my parents sent the papers for us to legally marry.

It was a warm, sunny, Sunday afternoon in August of 1971 when we married at a small church in Mill Valley, California. The reverend wasn’t happy about marrying two young people, but we made it clear if he didn’t we would find someone who would. Between Sunday services, we met at the church along with his parents, brothers, a friend of mine, and the reverend. In a span of about ten minutes, we were joined together as husband and wife. It was peaceful, and the only music was provided by the nesting sparrows outside the refectory.

After a few required signatures, photos, and a handshake from the reverend, we all went back to his parent’s house. They were, naturally, not in a party mood, so the Mr. and I changed into our jeans and boots, jumped on the Harley and headed down Miller Avenue to the local Jack in the Box burger joint for a meal. We rode over the Camino into Corte Madera and back along the back roads to Mill Valley. Later, we drove into San Francisco to the Hyatt for our wedding night. And that is all I have to say about that, other than we were both very happy, very in love, and very compatible. It was a beautiful day.

The next day we loaded up the Harley with our camping gear and headed to the Sierra Nevada Mountains to do some panning for gold for our honeymoon. It was a blissful few days, filled with laughter and the joy of knowing we were meant to be together forever. Eventually, we had to go back to the real world and face life as new adults. School, work, scrambling for money, paying bills, all that went with that set us apart from our friends our age. At the same time, we still had fun just being a young couple in love.

Years rolled by, children came, struggles came and went, we lost our oldest son, and we gained our first grandchild followed by more. Like all couples, we had our years of falling out of love and getting lost in the minutia of life, but we always found our way back to each other. And here we are, forty-eight years later, still married, still in love, and we still have that spark that brought us together all those years ago.

I love my husband. More than I ever thought I would. I don’t know where the years went so fast, but I know we lived every last one of them together. God willing, we will have untold years ahead. Who knew a ten minute ceremony would lead to eternity?

What’s Up With That?


People are strange. Maybe it is because I am old, but I find human behavior baffling, and sometimes, annoying, on a daily basis. Everyone is so tied up in themselves or something that they don’t seem to see the world around them, or participate in the moment. I will keep people watching, I can’t help it. I don’t even have to go to a zoo to watch their behavior, it is all played out right in front of me. For instance:

I noticed a woman driving in car, holding her phone as she talked into it. Nothing new about that, but she was also waving her other hand around as she talked. What I wanted to know was how she was driving the car if both hands were busy? Was she using her knees to steer, her feet, or was a short person in her lap steering while she talked with her hands? With all the pot holes in the streets of Memphis, she was taking a real chance on wrecking if she didn’t have some sort of hold on the steering wheel. What’s up with that?

I have noticed that a lot of folks talk on their phones like that. They hold them flat, talking into one end held close to their mouths, while listening to the speaker – generally on as loud as it can be. I call it the pizza talking position, as if they are going to take a bite of the phone. All of us in hearing range get to be spectators to the conversation. Conversations that, need I say, should be private. This is something that happens in very public places like restaurants and doctor’s offices. If I were one to gossip, the stories I could tell you would be shocking. What is up with that?

I have noticed, not that I could miss it if I tried, women of very round proportions wearing leggings on the verge of splitting. And yoga pants so tight that it is obvious to one an all exactly what kind of underwear they have on, or not. I, myself, am a well rounded woman. I am not standing in a position of a skinny Minnie fat shaming women. I simply cannot understand why anyone would want the world to see every single lump and bump of fat on their body. It is not pretty, sexy, or alluring, and it leaves them open to ridicule. Women of a particular size can be all those things without wearing clothing that points out all their less attractive attributes. But they don’t. What’s up with that?

I have noticed that any group of women, no matter what group, tends to get louder and more shrill as time goes by. Communication takes place on multiple levels. Verbal is the most obvious, followed by hand and body movements, but the most complex and interesting are the verbal tone and facial movements they make together. They can say a nice thing, but if you look at the raised eyebrow, the slightly off tone, the look they give one another, an entirely different meaning of the words they say comes forth. And the most interesting thing, is that men are oblivious to the Female Code of communication. Unless, of course, they are a metrosexual, emasculated male or gay. What’s up with that?

I have noticed that older couples often sit at a table in a restaurant and never speak to each other. They are on their phones, or simply ignore each other. Granted, some might simply be tired, or dealing with issues, but not everyone. And they don’t smile, at anyone. I can’t imagine not having something to talk about with my husband, even if it is nothing more that a chat about the kids or grandkids. I can’t imagine not smiling at people, especially cute little kids who always deserve a smile, or the servers who are working so hard. But they don’t. What’s up with that?

I am going to keep on people watching. I can’t help it. I keep seeing new ways that they astound and baffle me.

Listening To Him Sleep


I lay in bed listening to my husband sleep. I started thinking about the life we have shared over the nearly fifty years we’ve known each other. It hasn’t always been an easy partnership. Life has a way of making things difficult, painful, and sometimes, sad. We have loved long and hard, and sometimes, nearly hated each other just as much as we loved. We grew from young teenagers madly in lust with each other into adults who raised our boys, drifting along with, and sometimes away from, each other. But here we are, growing old together, still holding hands, still dancing in the kitchen to love songs, still laughing with and at each other, still loving each other. We still have dreams, ideas, and travels ahead of us, and we are all too aware that it could end in one last heartbeat of either of us.

Recently, my brother introduced me to a new singer, there are several songs on the album that I like, one, however, made me reach for the hand of the man I love. “More Of You” by Chris Stapleton. The words reached right into my heart and made me cry. In the past two years five of my long time friends and my mother have lost their partner or husband. Every one of them was a sudden, unexpected loss. All but one of these marriages was a long time relationship of between five and sixty years plus years. I have known these women for many, many years. One raised me, and the rest of us became close through friendship that led us together through good and bad, happy and sad events in our lives. Now, late at night they don’t have the blessing of lying next to the man they love listening to him sleep. It makes me hurt for them. And it makes me feel even more blessed than ever to know that the love of my life lies next to me.

I know as I look at him, sleeping and mumbling in his sleep, I hear the music and the words, “I fall more in love with you/ Than I’ve ever been….”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wCcby6SVbJE

“More Of You”

When I think of you and the first time we met
And I heard the sound of your sweet gentle voice
My heart took me over and gave me no choice
And right then I knew

[Chorus:]
It makes me want more of you
Again and again
I fall more in love with you
Than I’ve ever been
From the moment you wake me up
Till you kiss me goodnight
Everything that you do
It makes me want more of you

When I look at you now that years have gone by
I think of the memories that time can’t erase
And all of the smiles that you’ve brought to my face
Your love’s been so true

[Chorus]

When I leave this earth you’ll be holding my hand
And it gives me comfort to know you’ll be there
And I’ll thank the Lord for the love that we share
You’re heaven to me

[Chorus]

Everything that you do
It makes me want more of you