Long long ago in…1979

Once upon a time, long, long ago. Well….not too long because one day, I will be their age and how rude it will be when my children reference my wedding day as “long, long ago”. However, I really must convey, emphatically, that this date was in fact a long time ago. October 27th 1979. The date in and of itself is not all that spectacular, and in reality also NOT that long ago when in relation to one’s age, the scheme of eternity, the time it takes a toddler to find and put on their own shoes…

But through perspective of marriage, 1979 was indeed a lifetime ago. My parents celebrated forty-five years of marriage this year. My dad told me he knew he wanted to marry my mom after their first “real date”. Naturally I had to ask, what was the first fake date? Apparently, there was/is some discrepancies about that. They were high school sweethearts, and so they did do some thigs together before the official “first date”. The jury is still out on if the Hoban football game was the first date or not. This both melts my heart, and terrifies me. It means my oldest could potentially meet her husband in 5-7 years. I am NOT ready for THAT. I digress…

Every time I ask my mom about her wedding day, she laughs so hard she almost cries, and tells me about my dad’s socks. My dad and his groomsmen all wore white tuxes (bold move in Ohio in the fall) and Dad chose to wear his sports socks. Which meant that through his white tux pants, everyone could see the black and red stripes halfway up his calves. My mom said she was hoping everything would fall into place the way they practiced, and I can only imagine how anxious she was when she heard all the snickering until she realized, the love of her life decided sport socks were the way to go on his wedding day. Hey, you can’t fault the guy for choosing comfort, right?

So often each day comes, and goes in a flurry of rushed anxiety as my chaotically busy life drives on one late arrival to an activity at a time. It amazes me how quickly one day turns into a week, a week into a month, and so on until you realize it’s been years since you’ve said you’d “get around” to that one home improvement project you had planned. In a lot of ways life flies by so quickly that we can hardly grasp the moments between our fingers despite our best efforts, but if we are honest, some seasons crawl at the speed of smell. Some seasons are grueling, heart breaking, lonely, and if we are not careful, can burn with a slow building resentment that is difficult to come back from.

Marriage is not easy, and while we all know this on some level, living through a particularly hard season in marriage is something we don’t truly understand until we are waking up day in, and day out in the middle of a stupid wide valley (thank you Sarah). When my best friend got married, I told her and her husband “Sometimes in marriage, you are on the mountain top looking out at all the beautiful life behind, and ahead of you, but sometimes you are in the valley just trying to survive, climbing up one grueling steep step at time.” The couples that make it, are the ones that help each other up, instead of climbing over one another racing to the peak alone. And sometimes, a lot of times, the valley is stupid wide, and there is not a clear climb at the end as a way out. It’s just a long, wide low. Marriages are made in those moments. The valleys in which you actively choose your spouse when it might otherwise be easier to choose someone or something else. I asked my mom when she first realized marriage wasn’t always going to be easy, she said “It was about two months into being married that I realized Dad was going to be gone more than I thought. I wasn’t expecting to be so alone. We saw more of each other before we were married. I seriously thought the company was pulling a joke on me”.  The irony is, my first year of marriage was similar. Tanner and I spent maybe 5 months together total that first year, and man did we find so many ways to really mess up our marriage. My mom understood all to well what I was going through. My dad said he knew it wouldn’t be easy when he went on his first trip for work, right after they got back from their honeymoon. I imagine that felt like a bucket of ice water dumped on their burning passion of newlywed bliss.

If we are to be transparent in our marriage struggles, I think we can all admit that somedays are much easier to choose to love our spouses than others. Some seasons of life are effortless, and some are nothing but work. It was truly a treat to talk to my parents separately about their marriage, and see it from their perspective.

So to make it forty-five years?!?! That’s the dream right? As a child, I watched my parents with little, if any, appreciation for the example they were setting, the commitment they made, and the impact it would have on me as an adult. Did my parents fight? As a married woman and mother, I can say with ABSOLUTE certainty they fought. Did I ever see it? I mean, I saw signs of it. My parents were so good about fighting behind closed doors. I did see my dad aggressively clean dishes; I did see my mother’s frustration from across the deck when Dad maybe had one or two too many drinks and she was soooooo over it. I have heard on occasion my mother’s frustration with my dad’s consistent, and constant work travel. I saw my mom’s struggle as she was a geographically single mom of four. This was back before social media was a thing, before connecting with other moms was as easy as Googling a mom support group. And she didn’t have the time to do that even had it been a thing then. I asked her if she ever grew resentful, and what spurred a change in that feeling. She answered simply “Yes I did, but I realized I just had to suck it up. This was his job and I had to cope. It took years of feeling sad and yet hopeful with each promotion that he would be home more. It did get better”.

For all the moments of frustration and loneliness I witnessed as a child, which, let me be VERY clear: it was not this traumatic thing. I am not scarred from it. I witnessed normal humans in a normal marriage. I also saw a love that would carry them through some really difficult times. I watched my dad do his very best to keep all four children alive and fed as my mom went to women’s ministry events. (Praise God for breakfast rice!!!) I saw my mother’s face light up when Dad walked in the room after a long day of work, or a work trip (this, I would come to realize as an adult was both love and intense relief for the help parenting). I vividly remember my dad giving my mom a golden rose for one of their anniversaries. I grew up with parents that cuddled each other, laughed often, hugged always, kissed in front of us kids, talked to each other, and always had each other’s backs. My dad, without question, sent my mom to live with her sister for months at a time to care for her as she fought cancer, and be there in her final moments of life. He knew she wanted to be with her sister, and so he made it happen for her. My dad has driven endless miles to and from to take care of my maternal grandmother after my grandfather passed away. My dad has flown to and from other states just to pick up kids and grandkids to surprise my mom with visits.

My mom put everything on hold to be with my dad for every moment he fought his own cancer battle. She carefully crafted his diet to promote his healing, spent so much time researching the best ways to help him fight his battle. She sat in a SWELTERING house as he stoked the fire, hotter and HOTTER because he just could not stay warm during his treatments. She held down the fort for years as he traveled for work, she took extra jobs catering, and watching so many, so many kids. She created a life where us kids may not have had all the newest and greatest things, but we never went without. She made a budget for us when my dad made too much money to qualify for aid, but not enough to make life comfortable. She would later describe this as “working poor”. She was strategic about which checks to write for which bills, and when to make ends meet. My mom waited at his bedside when he was in the ICU with a brain bleed, and constantly reminds him NOT to climb up ladders now. Ephesians 5:22 “Wives, submit yourselves to your own husbands as you do to the Lord”. My mother has embodied this for as long as I can remember. She will tell you that my dad always carried around this black planner he called his “book of life”. She was so frustrated with how consumed he would get with planning for finances, and trips and all of the things, but she submitted to his plan. She trusted he was doing is best to care for her and their family. In the hard seasons, she chose to trust him and trust God. When my brother had a very rare and serious cancer as an infant, she trusted God and clung to her marriage. When life was hard, she was alone parenting and exhausted by my siblings (because it was NEVER me right?) she trusted. She trusted in a way I am not sure I could do had I been in her shoes. I am sure someone reading this will assume she is a meek person who is easily walked on, but she is not. My mother is fiercely independent, possesses profound ingenuity, and has a heart of gold.  

Their love is one that is so genuine, you feel it like a palpable presence between them. Its frankly impossible to miss if you are in the same room as them.

I asked each of my parents if they remembered their first fight, and what it was about. My mother said “It was about his job keeping him away from me so much. I lived alone for the first three out of six months. Our first year was rough”. My Dad? He said “Don’t remember, I’m sure I was wrong”. His response might seem scripted, but that’s just who my dad is. I asked him what he thinks makes their marriage so successful and he said “Remember to put your partner’s needs above your own. I would give my life to save your mom”. He means every word of that. I asked him how long he would continue to work, or when he planned to retire, and he explained that he plans to work long enough so that he makes enough money so that when he dies, my mom could live the exact same lifestyle she is living now. He’s not working to enjoy a retirement with her, which I am sure he is, but his motivation lies in making sure she is taken care of when he dies. He has lived his entire adult life working to take care of her. Ephesians 5:25 says “Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her” I’m not saying my dad gave up his life by any means, but I do think he would, without hesitation, die for my mom. I whole heartedly believe his work ethic, and drive for success largely stems from wanting to provide for my mom. I asked him what he was most afraid of when it came to marrying her and he said “I could not be the husband she deserved”.

I asked my mom what she thinks makes their marriage successful, she responded with “We still enjoy life together, and doing simple things to help one another. We look forward to seeing each other every day, and little things like not liking a king size bed because its too far to reach out to touch one another. The simple touch of the feet, or reach out to know the other one is there is so comforting. This is why I appreciate how hard it’s been on Grandma since Grandpa passed”

I firmly believe, the best is yet to come for these two love birds.