…especially best friends to whom you’re fortunate enough to be married.
A friend from the past, someone with whom I spent fun times when I lived in New York many, many moons ago, recently mailed me copies of photos she’d found while perusing her albums.
At the time hubby and I were probably in our late 20s, early 30s.
The memories of our early married years came flooding back as I gazed at those pictures.
I remembered the ups and downs which most young couples endure. That we made it to 43 years, and counting, is a testimonial to the love we’ve shared since we first laid eyes upon one another. Well, maybe it was lust which turned to loving and just as importantly…liking.
Appearances have a lot to do with individuals being attracted to one another. However, personalities that mesh, and having things in common, also figure prominently into the mix. As time passes, the latter two may even acquire equal status with good looks, if not surpass it altogether.
In his younger years I thought myself lucky to have my own Elvis Presley look-alike. Suffice it to say some girlfriends agreed with me, as did total strangers. Some even making a play for my husband. While on a business trip to Chicago, my husband said one woman told him if he ever returned he should look her up. Duh?!? Excuse me!?!
Even older women gasped at my husband’s good looks, one realtor asking me how it was that I came to marry him. Obviously she considered me a plain Jane by comparison. I didn’t hold it against her though, because we bought our house with her help. And I really did like her.
An executive with a company my husband had been employed by in NYC, hired him into a management position when she joined another organization. That was the beginning of the awesome career my husband has enjoyed these last 35+ years. And the woman, now in her 70s or 80s has remained a friend, in touch from time to time.
While my husband remains as attractive to me as when we first met, his caring ways are what I find most appealing now. I was reminded of them once again as he helped me through these last few days, as I strove to recover after fibromyalgia knocked me off of my feet.
How do couples rack up years of marriage, celebrating anniversaries of 10 years, 25 years, 50 years? I think it takes a great ATTENTION TO DETAIL, to those moments which demonstrate love and concern for the other person.
Small, seemingly insignificant things can make or break a marriage. Does he snore? Does she nag? Does he leave the toilet lid raised? Does she use his razor to shave her legs? Is he a workaholic? Is she a spendthrift? Then, of course, there are the idiosyncrasies unique to each married couple.
My husband is the oldest of 12, I, the youngest of 9. Being from either end of the lineup of children, seems to simplify the dynamics of a relationship. For the most part I’m not leading, and he’s not following. But then when it involves running the household, I’m always leading, he’s always following. I say “Can you empty the garbage?” He says “Yes, dear.” Half-an-hour later I say “Did you empty the garbage?” To which he replies “Not yet.” Hours later with the garbage still not emptied, I decide to drop the matter. I’m not up to going downstairs and out into the garage now either.
Climbing into bed with my husband already snoring, I screw in my ear plugs, settle a pillow down the middle of the bed between us, turn off the light, and wait for sleep to come. I snuggle down into the covers and pull the pillow between us closer to my face, partially covering it. I breathe deeply, aiming for relaxation. Still focused upon the snores emanating from my husband, I reach over the pillow, gently massaging his back between the shoulder blades. It’s enough to rouse him, so that he moves his head further up onto his own pillow. This closes his lips and the snoring stops, temporarily. I may have to repeat the massages a few more times. Most times I eventually fall asleep. On the rare occasion that I can’t sleep, and I have an appointment to keep the next day, I’ll wake my husband and ask him to move to our daughter’s old bedroom. Drowsily, he consents. Grateful, I accompany him next door, settling him into bed and switching off the lights. Smiling to myself in the darkness of our bedroom, I remove the ear plugs and take deep breaths, relaxing while I drift off to sleep. As I do, I can hear faint sounds of snoring resonating through the wall. Sighing to myself, I’m just grateful he’s not “sawing wood” in my ears.
My husband awakes at dawn, fiddles at his computer keyboard, feeds the cats, walks the dog, gets ready for work, and downs a cup of green tea along with a bite to eat. Before leaving for work, he generously turns on my computer, setting up AOL.
At night after eating the dinner I’ve prepared, my husband relaxes stretched out on the couch in front of the TV, half-watching it while reading his e-book. I gather the dishes and wine glasses, putting them into the dish washer, tidy the counters, clean the grit off the stove’s glass top, wash pots and pans, and toss accumulated scraps of food from the sink into the recycled garbage. Before heading off to blog, I offer to get my husband dessert, if we have any.
It’s taken 40 years of honing our skills as to the give and take of being married to one another. We’re no longer compelled to “hang tough” in battling over every inch of common ground we share. When we were young and unsure of ourselves, and each other, we would revert to being 2 strangers trying to cohabit. But allowing ourselves the time to mature and grow old together, has made the “give and take” of married life not so hard to give, and take, after all.
Hugs are good too, lots of hugs…hugmamma.
A couple of new administrative tidbits. WordPress has instituted a couple of gadgets on each post.
If you like a particular post, click on “Like.” Not only would this bring a huge smile to my face, but it would let me know what topics have greater appeal. Believe me I never run out of material, so I can chatter re any subject at length. Again, ask my husband, my daughter, and so on and so forth.