Celebrating Our Wedding Anniversary

Today is our 47th wedding anniversary, so I will just make a quick blog entry, then spend the rest of the day with my husband.

Sometimes I am amazed that we have made it this long. In terms of relationships, there isn’t a lot of longevity in my family. My parents were divorced when I was about three and my father remarried when I was five.  I was raised primarily by my mother, but did spend a lot of time with my father and his new family, which is where I got to experience the joy of living in a house with 15 other people and one bathroom.

My mother’s parents split when she was quite young, and I recently found out my grandmother was somewhat of a harlot. She liked her beer and her men. That side of the family is rift with divorces and multiple marriages, and it would take a whole book just to talk about all of that. So I won’t.

When Carl and I married, it was with the vow and the hope that we would manage to stay together for the long haul. Often we would joke that we couldn’t get a divorce because I needed him to tune my guitar and he needed me to chase the snakes out of our woodpile.


I still have the guitar, so I guess we're stuck with each other for a few more years.

To Us

Monday Morning Musings

Yesterday I decided to start the third book in the Seasons Mystery Series. In some respects it feels a little strange to be working on that one when the second book won't be out until November 2012, but I figured if it really is going to be a series, there should be more than two books. Open Season has been well-received since it came out in December, so I'm thinking that maybe readers will enjoy more stories about Sarah and Angel. The third book is tentatively titled Out of Season.

I read an interesting column by Leonard Pitts last week titled "Why WIlliam and Kate's Nuptials Matter".  He wrote, "To get married is to make a bet on always and forever."

He went on to point out how the always and forever isn't as common as it once was. "We marry less, we marry later, we make marriage a reality show, we see out cynicism validated by Hollywood marriages that pop like soap bubbles. A wedding then, is not just an act of faith, but also one of defiance."

And his final point was that given the tragedy of his mother's death and all the scandal surrounding it, it would have been understood if William decided to forgo the whole marriage bit, but he didn't. In defiance of the odds and the history, William decided to stand in public and declare his love and loyalty to Kate. Pitts wrote, "There is something in it to gladden the cynical eye and hearten the pessimistic heart."

After reading the column, I had a different perspective on the whole Royal Wedding issue, although I still believe there was just a bit too much made of it in the media.

On another note, I was stunned last night when the announcement was made that Osama bin Laden has been killed. US forces killed him in the military town of Abbottabad, 75 miles north of the capital. If you would like to read a full story about the military operation that brought him down, here is a link to The Christian Science Monitor While it is hard for me to celebrate someone's death, a part of me is saying, "Yes, finally."

Sex is Not a Toy

... Or is it?

When I wrote the first draft of my woman's novel, Play It Again, Sam, one of the issues I wanted to address in the story was the growing cavalier attitude about sex. This was back in the early 90s, and I had a contract for the book from Kennsington for their To Love Again series, which they dropped just before my book came out. The book languished for a while, then came out as an e-book a few years ago.

In the story, the central character, Samantha, is divorced after 25 years of marriage and one of the myriad questions she faces is what is she to do about sex. The normal human desires are there, but she no longer has a partner. Her friend, Margaret, encourages her to find someone and just have fun, but Sam doesn't feel like that is something she can do. "I've been preaching to my kids about the dangers of casual sex. How can I be a hypocrite?"

In many ways that reflects my attitude about casual sex, and I was dismayed to read a recent article in The Dallas Morning News, Waiting to Wed by Mark Regnerus and Jeremy Uecker.  In the article they write that young adults, whom they keep referring to as emerging adults, are waiting longer and longer to get married, while pursuing active sex lives before hand. They quote psychologist Jeffrey Arnett, "Those who do not experiment with different partners are warned that they will eventually wonder what they are missing, to the detriment of their marriage."

Who hasn't played that what-if game about sex and about a lot of other things in life? But is doesn't have to be a detriment. Think about it, even fantasize a bit if you want, then get back to appreciating what you have. 

The article continues to support the benefits of exploring different relationships, "...there is value placed on flexibility, autonomy, change, and the potential for upgrading."

What? Is this like buying a car? Let's start with a GEO and end up with a LEXUS?

One of the major reasons cited for delaying marriage was a belief that getting married signaled the end of really good sex.  Hmmmm, most of my contemporaries would disagree. Just thinking about.... no, never mind.

My point is, sexual intercourse is one of the most important intimate acts we can participate in, and I sure wish the younger generation would not have such a casual approach to it. It is not recreation. It is not the same as playing video games or any of the other things we do to amuse ourselves. It is part of building a relationship, and that is not a casual affair.

What do you think? I'm sure younger readers are going to have plenty to say. LOL

Monday Morning Musings

First, I want to thank everyone who has bought copies of One Small Victory this month for their Kindles. The book has become quite popular, and I am so thrilled that Jenny's story is getting read by so many people.

Today I am blogging on All Day, All Night Romance Divas about the tools writers use and how they have evolved. Stop on by if you get a chance. 

I spent most of the weekend unconnected from the Internet and even the news. It was kind of strange as I am seldom totally disconneced. Even when I am on vacation, I will check e-mail and get news online or on television, but I didn't do that this weekend. Wasn't on Facebook or Twitter either. So I don't have much to muse about.

However, I did read something interesting in the Saturday newspaper. It was in the advice column written by Carolyn Hax in response to a woman who wanted to know what to do when one partner in a marriage feels like they are doing all the heavy lifting. Carolyn encouraged the woman to have a frank discussion with her husband about what needs to be done to maintain the home and see what he is willing to do to help. She also encouraged the woman to  review her expectations and perhaps lower the bar. Carolyn concluded by writing:

There comes a point when standing up for yourself fails, when saying how you feel about it fails, when doing everything in angry silence fails, when doing your own cooking, laundry and dishes fails, and that point is when the marriage fails. Best to bring in the disaster team before your anger at the unfairness swallows up all the love."

I think we have all been there at some point, whether it be in a marriage or some other relationship. I can remember being angry with my siblings when I thought they were getting away with not doing their chores and my parents were all over me like hot tar. There were many moments when my anger over something my kids did, or didn't do, clouded my memory of the joy I felt when they were born. And there have been plenty of times I have been angry at my husband and that anger crowded out any feeling of love.

A long time ago, I learned something that helps me when the anger wants to dominate. Love is a decision. We can separate and protect that loving part of our relationships from the things that make us angry. It's part of unconditional love. You can make me so angry that I want to throttle you, but I can still love you if I choose. And it's funny, the more I choose, the less those other issues seem to matter.

How do you deal with the anger issues in your relationships? 

Friday's Odds and Ends

In an interview with Walter Scott for Parade Magazine, Jane Fonda was asked if she was surprised to fall in love again, with record producer Richard Perry. "Totally. But it doesn't start with love, right? It starts with sex and grows into love."

I guess as long as we continue to consider sex recreation, we will continue to have high rates of abortion, single mothers, and widespread STDs. Call me old-fashioned, but I think the most intimate connection we can have with another person ought to be with someone we have grown to love first.

During a recent Commissioner's Court meeting in Dallas, Commissioner John Wiley Price responded to provocative comments during the public comment portion of the meeting with an angry outburst. He said, "All of you are white. Go to hell." Price has a long history of placing the race card, so some of his responses are to be expected. But as several columnists and editorial writers for The Dallas Morning News have said, he could do so with a lot more decorum.

Seven teenagers in Pennsylvania attacked a 13-year old boy. They beat him, tossed him into a tree, and hung him from a metal fence post. The attack went on for 30 minutes in a public place, the boy crying for help the entire time. The perpetrators videotaped the whole thing and posted the video on YouTube.

Over and above the atrocity, what is really sad about this story is the fact that it has become another form of recreation. Kids fighting each other or some hapless stranger and making a slasher video of it has become an Internet rage.

Anne Rasmussen of Dallas took her first college class when she was 72, and went on to get a bachelor's and a master's degree. Now, at age 80 she is about to become the oldest person to enter SMU's law school. In an interview in The Dallas Morning News with columnist Steve Blow, she said, "I can't just sit and stare at the walls."

Kudos to Anne and all the people like her who believe in living life to the fullest and following whatever dream they have and not letting age stand in the way.

Friday's Odds and Ends

In central Texas there is a wide area of devastation where trees are dying, as well as other vegetation. Environmentalists believe the sulfur dioxide emitted by the Fayette Power Plant is to blame. However, the plant's operator and the state's Environmental Regulator deny pollution is to blame for the swaths of plant devastation. Pecan groves in the area have seen crops dwindle from 200,000 lbs a year to 8,000.

Do you really believe the pollution is not causing the problem? 

Anti-gay activist Cindy Jacobs, who is a member of Generals International has posted a video explaining her belief that it was the repeal of the military’s ‘Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell’ that caused all of these dead animals to be popping up all over the country, including the thousands of birds that fell from the sky in Beebe, Arkansas not long ago.  Her reasoning is that because homosexuality is a sin according to the Bible, the barrage of dead animals is a direct message from God.

Hmmmm. Not the God I believe in.

A novel idea. How about we write laws in plain English? This was proposed in a recent editorial by author, Linda Chavez, and I wanted to stand up and cheer when I read it. She pointed out the clarity and brevity of the Constitution, which was written so the common man could understand it.  In contrast, she compared the Health Care Act, weighing in on 2,400 pages to the fact that "we abolished slavery and gave former slaves the right to vote in 100 words.  We guaranteed women the right to vote in fewer than 40 words." "If legislators can't explain what they want to do in 100 pages of less, they probably shouldn't be doing it."

Hear! Hear!

Celebrating 191 years of marriage. Yes it's true. Three brothers who married three sisters over 60 years ago have between them 191 years of marriage.Growing up, the  Waters boys lived not far from the Webb sisters in the little Texas town of Dike, and eventually they all hooked up. Although the youngest couple did resist for a while. "We thought two was enough," the youngest Webb sister said. The couples enjoy traveling together and will be celebrating anniversaries this year by going on a cruise. And the secret to 191 years  of happy marriage? "A whole lot of give and take."

Bravo!!


What about you? Anything catch your eye in the news recently?

Lasting Relationships

Sorry to disappoint everyone who popped over to read Friday's Odds & Ends, but today is our wedding anniversary. I thought readers might enjoy finding out what has kept us together for 45 years. The following is another excerpt from my humorous memoir, A Dead Tomato Plant and a Paycheck. While most of that book is humorous, now and then I get serious about families and the ties that bind. Enjoy....

The year we celebrated our 22nd wedding anniversary was special to me because that was the year I had spent exactly half of my life married to Carl. Sometimes I had a hard time remembering what my life was before this marriage. Fragments of memory would come back in little flashes, like quick freeze frames, but they seemed to have less to do with who I was then, than what began on our wedding day.

I can vividly remember the fantasy I had about us in those early years. We would be the perfect couple. Have perfect children. A perfect home. I would become a rich and famous author, which would put us in the public spotlight, and people all over the world would marvel about how great we were.

When I fantasize, I don’t fool around.

Obviously, the fantasy was just that, but reality hasn’t been all that disappointing. We have longevity to our relationship and that is noteworthy. We have a great family. 

Who wants perfect, anyway? 

We did more than survive those first 22 years – and the years since. We lived and loved and laughed and cried and grew together.

In light of that accomplishment, I wonder if there is some kind of secret to it all, and after careful consideration, I think the answer is “yes” and “no” and “maybe.”

Yes, because when we married Carl and I made a commitment to each other. A commitment we decided to honor even when things got rough. A commitment that kept us in the same house even when we couldn’t stand being in the same room together. And a commitment that made us dig in and work to make things better when it looked like it was all falling apart.

No, because the secret isn’t really a secret. Every married couple voices the same vow on their wedding day and we are not the only ones who continue to honor it.

Yet, maybe there is some magic to our particular blend of single-mindedness and determination. What used to be his strength and my strength became our strength and kept us from ever considering an alternative. For the most part, it also kept us from evaluating our relationship according to modern standards. We never had “his and her” towels or “his and her” rights and responsibilities. When we’ve found ourselves asking, “What am I getting out of this relationship?” the answer usually becomes “what am I giving?” And we’ve tried to focus on acceptance and understanding instead of expecting and demanding.

Of course, we haven’t always lived out those ideals. But ideals are a lot like virtue. Just because a person has the virtue of patience doesn’t mean she can’t scream now and then. 

One of the articles I wrote for a national magazine, Marriage & Family Living, dealt with staying committed in a marriage. I decided to ask some dear friends who were like foster parents to me, to share the secret of their 50 + years together. He considered my question for a moment then said, “Well, the way I see it. It’s like getting into a boat together to cross the lake. As long as you are both paddling  with the same effort, you will get across to the other side.”

"And if one of those someones can’t row anymore?"

"Then the other person has to row harder."

Guest Post by Tracy Farr

I am doing the Youth Drama Camp again this week, so I am gone from my office most of the time. Thank you Tracy Farr for allowing me to stea... er,  borrow your work when I am desperate for a blog piece. Enjoy....

5 Tips on Surviving Marriage

Sadie and Reese are friends of mine who recently got married. I took their wedding pictures. While at the wedding, I thought about giving them advice on how to sustain a long and happy marriage, but reconsidered, thinking it might be inappropriate to give them my counsel as they exchanged rings or ate wedding cake.

But now that the ceremony is over, Sadie and Reese, I hereby and forthwith give you my Five Tips on Surviving Marriage:

1. Reese: It is YOUR job to mow the yard. Yes, you may be tempted to let her push the lawnmower or ride the tractor around the yard after you’ve come home from a hard day at work, and we (and by we, I mean your man brothers), we may look at you with admiration for conning your wife into doing it for you – but it’s a trap. Let her mow the yard once, and she’ll use it against you until she lays you in your grave. And maybe even longer.

“What do you mean you don’t have time to pick up the milk,” she’ll say. “Don’t you remember how I mowed the yard for you three years ago, without any help? And you don’t have time to pick up a lousy carton of milk? My mother warned me this would happen.”

Sadie: It is your job to mow the yard as often as possible, thus giving you tremendous amounts of leverage against him. If he beats you to the lawnmower, at least bring him a glass of iced tea while he’s mowing. You can use that as leverage, too.

To read the rest of the tips, click over to Tracy's Blog

Across the Great Divide...

... between men and women. More fun from my friend, Tracy Farr. And men wonder why we sometimes get in a snit.... Enjoy...

I would get up and do something, but everything’s done

So here I am, sitting on the couch on a lazy Saturday afternoon, thinking I really should get up and do something, or fix something, or paint something, but I can’t make up my mind what I should do, fix or paint.

And it doesn’t help that my wife is scurrying around trying to organize the magazines that will only get unorganized in a week or two. And I think she may even be doing a little bit of dusting.

It’s not every day I find myself with nothing to do, but it does happen. Mostly I take care of my goats, practice banjo a bit, I may fix myself a cup of coffee or maybe a bowl of ice cream, but there’s always something to do – except for today. Today my slate is clean, my page is blank, my To Do List is done and I have absolutely nothing on the agenda.

Okay, now she wants me to help her decide which magazines to keep and which ones to throw out. If she could just push that stack over here next to the couch, maybe I could help her, but she wants me to come over there – at a time when I’m putting enormous amounts of thought into figuring out what I need to do today, and I really should…

The truck. I need to check the oil in the truck. I don’t think it’s low or anything, but I did notice an oil leak on the ground the other day as I was pulling away from Wal-mart. But then again, that could have been someone else’s oil leak. In fact, I’m sure it was. And I’d hate to go check the oil now, considering the ground is all muddy, which means my feet would get all muddy, and I wouldn’t want to track a lot of dirt through the house, seeing that my wife is now vacuuming.

Boy, that vacuum cleaner is loud. It’s hard to get some good quality thinking done with all that racket going on. And she pushes that thing like there’s a time limit; like she put in her last quarter, and once that quarter runs out, she can’t do anymore. I mean she’s really working up a sweat. I wonder if she’s vacuuming like that to get her daily exercise in, instead of going to some gym or something. Well, I guess I might have to move, because I really need to figure out what I’m going to do.

Wait a minute, I remember – I was going to fix the leak under the house today. It’s not a bad leak, just some PVC that’s come apart, letting all the water from the washing machine flow out into our front yard. I went under the house about a month ago, saw that the pipes might come apart soon if I didn’t fix it, but I didn’t, because it looked like it would last a few more weeks. But now there’s water everywhere, and I would get under the house to repair it, but it’s too cold, and getting under the house during the winter is really nasty. I think it can wait until May, or maybe June. Water is good for the grass, anyway, so it can’t hurt too much.

Okay, she’s finished vacuuming, but now what is she doing? Ah, dishes. I thought about doing the dishes, but since our dishwasher is broken and we have to do them by hand, and I hate doing them by hand, I didn’t do them. I guess I’ll get back to washing dishes when I get around to calling the repairman, but this is the weekend and I doubt repair shops are even open.

Who wants to work on a weekend, anyways? I know I don’t. I much prefer sitting on this couch, maybe watching a movie or two, because I work hard during the week and I think that maybe I deserve some downtime. Some good quality, pick my feet off the floor, downtime. And I wish she’d stop flitting around doing all that work because she’s making me feel just a wee bit guilty that I don’t have anything to do and she’s…

She’s taking out the garbage. Big bags. Right out the front door, down the steps, through the mud, and it’s still a bit chilly outside, but she’s doing it anyway. I guess I could open the door for her when she…

Oh well, she’s already back inside. She doesn’t look happy. I wonder why?

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Tracy Farr lives in East Texas with his wife, three children and some goats. To read more of his stories, visit his Web site

Men are not perfect... says who?

Here is some more humor from my friend Tracy Farr. All the feminists in the room need to get a grip. Enjoy....



It has recently come to my attention that there may be a number of things that we men do that drive "our women" absolutely bonkers. I'm not exactly sure what good can come from knowing these things, but I put it before you, nonetheless.

The Toilet Paper Roll – It is possible that there are some women who get upset when their man uses the last bit of toilet paper and doesn’t replace the roll. I got this impression after Colleen in Virginia said, “Is there anything worse than sitting down only to see an empty cardboard tube?”

Yes, Colleen, there is: Discovering the roll is empty only when you’re ready to get up!

So guys, if you’re willing to nip this problem in the bud before it really becomes an issue, my advice to you is this: Never use the bathroom at home. Go to a neighbor’s house.

Master of the TV Remote – According to Angela in Florida, she hates it when her husband “hogs the television remote and we have to watch the same old crap every night (cops, mobsters, hunting, investigation shows or army junk).”

Well, Angela, you don’t expect him to watch Oprah or “Sex in the City,” do you? That would cause even more problems.

Guys, if you are aware you have a TV remote fetish, my advice to you is this: Hand over the remote for longer and longer periods of time in order to break free from the constant responsibility of being in charge of the television. Start off with a second or two, and eventually build it up to about 60 seconds. That’s about as long as a commercial. Then, let your wife be in charge of the remote during the commercials. I guarantee that’s a win-win situation.

Oh Where, Oh Where is His Underwear – One of the things that drives Janice in Chicago absolutely nuts is when her husband, “leaves his underwear in the middle of the floor.”

Okay, Janice, I hear your frustration, but don’t you agree that leaving his underwear in the middle of the floor is much better than leaving it in the refrigerator? And he could, you know. He goes over to the fridge to fix himself a ham and cheese sandwich, remembers that he hasn’t changed is underwear in awhile, then absentmindedly stuffs it in the crisper just so he can have a hand free to grab the mayo. Yes, oh yes, I believe that could be far worse.

Guys, if leaving your underwear all over the house really drives your woman to the point of madness, there’s only one solution: Find a comfortable pair and never take them off, forsaking all others, till death do you part.

The Speed Racer – Now here’s an unusual story: The one thing that drives Janet in Virginia over the edge of marital bliss is that her husband “drives too slow. Just ask the kids.”

Well, Janet, I would, but I don’t know your kids, will never know your kids, and I have no desire to ever ask them about your husband’s driving habits because I couldn’t bear for them to corroborate that their loving father drives like a granny. It’s unthinkable. It’s absurd. I even hazard to say that male genes do not flow through that man’s jeans.

Guys, if anyone ever compares your driving to that of a mild-mannered toothless grandma who thinks man was never meant to travel faster than a good walk around the block, then my advice to you is this: Give away your keys to someone who thinks the speed of light is too slow, and don’t you ever get behind the wheel of an automobile again. If you must satisfy your need for speed, watch NASCAR and take a quick nap.

Telephone Etiquette – Donna in Texas says she’s pretty happy with her husband, except “he hangs up the phone without saying ‘bye.’ He also corrects my grammar and he drives very aggressively.”

Well, Donna, I can see why you could get a little bit snippy about the grammar thing and never hearing “bye” at the end of a phone conversation, but you’ve got a man who knows how to punch holes through traffic jams and will always get you to where you’re going before you’ve even left the house. So, what do you want? More perfection?

Guys, if your telephone skills are a bit lacking, but you drive like a World Federation wrestler, here’s my advice: Throw the other guy out of the ring in the third round and pound him with the chair. The audience will love it.

Well folks, there it is. Take it for what it’s worth. As for me, I think it’s best if I change the subject.

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Tracy Farr lives in East Texas with his wife, three children and some goats. To read more of his stories, visit his website at http://www.tracyfarr.net.

Two More of my Books

I finally got around to adding covers for two of my other books to the side bar here on the blog. Hate to admit out loud that it took me a long time to figure out how to add items. You would think that someone who maintains a huge Web site WinnsboroToday.com would find all this other Web stuff a breeze, but each site has its own programming and idiosyncrasies.

Anyway, for those of you who may not be familiar with these other two book, let me give you a quick introduction.

Friends Forever is a young adult novel for middle school readers, that I originally wrote when one of my daughters faced the sudden social changes that happens as kids leave grade school and move on. Friends who used to be friends are often pulled apart.

BLURB: Friendship is a tenuous thing when you are thirteen and everything in your life is changing, especially your best friend. Terrified that she will lose Laura to the influence of Angie who is rich, beautiful, and the most popular girl in school, Debbie Webly will do almost anything to hang on to Laura. When her efforts backfire, Debbie finds out that true friendship is based on much more than looks or popularity.

Play It Again, Sam, is also based on real experience of husbands walking away from long-time marriages out of discontent. It happened to a good friend of mine who allowed me to tell her story.

BLURB:

When her husband comes home from work one day to announce that he’s moving out, Samantha Rutgers thinks it’s a joke. She hopes it’s a joke. But he packs a suitcase and walks out, leaving her in emotional devastation. She thought their marriage was just fine. Their life was just fine. What happened?

After twenty-five years as a corporate wife, raising the children and making a comfortable home for the family, Sam feels ill equipped to build a new life. She also feels ill equipped to face being a single woman in a whole new dating culture.

With the help of long-time friend, Margaret, Sam takes a new path in life. She goes back to college to pursue the art degree she’d put on hold. She gets a job with an advertising firm. And she meets Frank Reynolds who invites her to take that first step into new love.

Click on the covers to read more about the books if you are interested.

What is Success?

I am getting ready to go to Austin to do a talk at the History Center, which is affiliated with the Austin Public Library. My son is the manager there, so he was most helpful in getting this set up. When I was talking to him making final arrangements for when I would arrive, I realized how lucky I am to have him in my corner like that.

In fact, all my kids and kids-in-laws (how's that for coining a word?) are great supporters of my writing, as are my grandchildren.

In their eyes, I am a great success, even though I have not made the NY Times best-seller list. And you know what, when the day is done and I am reflecting on what is good in my life, my writing career is way down on the list.

Don't get me wrong. I love my work, and I try very hard to write the best stories I can, and then market the books so I can make a living at this. But what I am most proud of, and what I think I've had the most success at, is building family relationships. My husband and I have worked hard to have a good marriage -- some days are better than others -- and we worked hard as the children were growing up to give them a foundation that would serve them well. And I think we have succeeded at that.

Not that the kids are perfect. Hell, nobody's perfect. But they are reasonably well adjusted. They all have good jobs, and the ones who are married have wonderful families. The same values of integrity, honesty, responsibility, and concern for others are being passed down to another generation.

That is a legacy that may live on longer than any of my work, and for that I am so proud and grateful.

Setting the Tone

My good friend and fellow author, Laura Castoro, once told me that women are the heart of a home and no matter whether we like it or not, we set the tone for the atmosphere at home. We were both bemoaning the fact that husbands can get mad and storm around and everyone has to just hush until they get over it. But if we women get mad and storm around, pretty soon everyone is in a sour mood and things get pretty testy.

I hadn't really paid attention to that phenomenon until she stopped by one day years ago to recover from a "mad" before she went home and infected her whole house. But when she pointed it out, I realized it was true.

"But that's totally not fair," I said.

"You're right. But fair has nothing to do with the reality."

"That stinks." Maybe I was hoping that if I protested enough I could someone alter this reality.

Laura just laughed. "Right again, but are we going to rail against something we can't change, or learn how to adapt."

"I don't want to adapt. I want to be able to be mad all by myself."

Again, Laura laughed. "Good luck with that. Me, I'm going to go home and try to put on a smile and watch my husband and kids smile back."

It probably wasn't that simple for her that day, and it certainly is not a simple thing to put into practice day after day, week after week, year after year. But I can tell you after 43 years of marriage that the days that I am aware of setting a tone for my home are the days that tone is more pleasant and harmonious than some others.

I still mutter about this being not fair, and I'm sure Laura will laugh again when she reads this, but it works.

The Simple Way

Living and loving in a totally committed relationship is a rare commodity in this era ruled largely by a throw-away mentality. To see two people who sustain each other in a marriage through many years of good and bad is fairly significant in itself, but to see two people who actually grow in kindness and love is awesome.

A long time ago when I needed a refuge from a turbulent adolescence, my girlfriend, Jeanette, asked if I would like to live with her family for a while. I always loved going to her house. It was so alive with laughter and had a warmth less connected to the ever-active oven than to something going on between her mom and dad. That something overflowed to the whole family.

To be a part of that was an incredible opportunity.

Mam and Sir, who are both gone now, were simple country folk of Scandinavian background and devoted to their family. Sir worked hard to provide food and shelter and Mam worked hard to provide heart. She loved to play, and I can remember dancing in the living room with her and Jeanette while Sir looked on and shook his head. "You girls," he would say. "What am I going to do with you?"

I can also remember with great clarity how kind everyone was to each other in that family, doing things without being asked and without keeping score. There was a real generosity of spirit that made it okay if dinner was late on my day to cook because I spent the day at the horse barn. It was also okay for Jeanette to skip dishes if she had a big date. And if Mam came home from work tired, she knew someone would tell her to put her feet up and rest a while. Someone else would always pick up the slack in the kitchen.

After I married and started my own family, I often pulled from those memories to form a blueprint for relationship. The Sunday afternoon 'naps' that weren't really naps at all. The complete awareness of each other that was reflected in a glance, a touch, a smile. The devotion that never wavered in the face of human weakness. And most of all, the pure joy of being together. It was so tangible I often thought I could reach out and touch it.

Over the years I stayed connected to this family, and we visited as often as possible even though we were separated by many miles and several states. During one visit I picked up on a subtle change in Mam's child-like behavior. It wasn't like she was playing anymore. I also noticed that she was asking me the same questions over and over again.

Afraid, yet needing to know, I looked at Sir.

He nodded.

That horrible reality of Alzheimer's hit me like a physical blow, yet I couldn't help but find some sweetness in the bitter moment. The response from the heart of this tough old farmer was beauty to behold. It was particularly poignant to see him reach out with a gnarled hand to let her know with a gentle touch that it was okay that she forgot again. It was a gesture so intimate and so filled with love I was almost embarrassed to have seen it.

Some years later, when Mam had progressed into a totally alien world and Sir was then facing his imminent death from cancer, I asked him to tell me the secret of their long and happy marriage. How did they stick together through so much? I didn't need the information for myself. I was pretty sure I knew the answer, but I wanted to hear it in his own words for an article I was writing about fidelity in marriage.

He pondered a bit, as all great farmer/philosophers do, then he shrugged. "It's not so special," he said. "No magic. No tricks. I guess it's like when you get in a rowboat and set out across the lake. If you want to get to the other side, you both better be pulling on the oars."