Marking Five Years of Marriage

by admin | June 10, 2016 8:15 am

Dear Julie:

We married five years ago today on a humid June afternoon. The ceremony was performed under a grove of trees, cows lowing across the fence line. The wedding ring was tied to Rosie’s collar. Your daughter Abbie — soon to be mine as well — held Rosie’s leash and kept a careful eye on the ring pouch. We maintained the tradition of a bride and groom not seeing each other the day of the wedding. I learned later you were a bit nervous and stayed concealed in your brother’s house until it was time to walk down the hill. I will never forget watching you slowly descend toward us, radiant and beautiful.

I rode up to Hughes Springs in the Mini Cooper with our preacher, the Rev. JJ. It would serve as the vehicle to leave the reception, after which we would switch to the Escape for the brief honeymoon trip to Hot Springs, Ark. The Mini Cooper is gone, and we both miss it. The Rev. JJ and I now work together. And you drive the Escape, with 200,000 miles on it. Funny how things turn out.

It was a sweet wedding, just family. Our friend Rufus quietly moved around and photographed, donating his considerably talents to document the event. Rev. JJ was eloquent and affirming, as always. We were at long last husband and wife, after an engagement prolonged by job uncertainties and several moves on my part. Finally we decided to emulate the plunge we took into a cold Blanco River nearly three years earlier. We decided to get hitched.

No surprise, it has not been all smooth sailing. When two people marry after passing the mid-century mark, there is enough baggage to pack a few overhead compartments with Samsonites. There has been heartbreaking tragedy. We are not through with that, likely never will be.

But there has been plenty of joy. Watching Abbie grow up and flourish, my daughters find their way in the world, taking fine trips to New England, Washington state and elsewhere. But mainly it is the everyday stuff in which I take joy. I am slowly learning how to be a good husband to you. Lord knows I am a special-needs learner. Here are a few observations.

First:

I should not utter a word until you have consumed a full cup of coffee. Unlike me, who uses an inexpensive pot and is lousy at measuring, your coffee is precisely created. Talking to you until this process is complete can be risky business. I have learned. We just nod and smile.
You are without a doubt the funniest person I have known. I am sometimes slow to get the joke. Sorry.
You love flowers. I can make up for a lot of screw-ups with flowers. Nothing fancy, since your Scottish heart recoils at spending florist fees. So I generally buy them at the grocery story and put them in a vase. Then you immediately rearrange them to look much better. It’s what we do, this flower thing.
Both of us might be put out with each other, but if someone else gets on your case, or vice versa, we’re both like mama bears or grizzlies. I’m swift to come to your defense and you the same. But we are also able to tell each other if we think the other is messing up. That would usually be me.

Here’s the thing, Julie. I am enriched by this marriage in ways I never imagined. Tragedy, joy and the passing of time have made our bond stronger, in my estimation. We are a tough pair, you and I. We both lean on our faith, our love, and our strength to get through the day.

Happy fifth anniversary, Dr. Jules! I love you to pieces. The flowers are on the counter, awaiting your skillful touch.

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