Still the One
Last Sunday, leaving The Hanger at the Orange County Fair after the Ottmar Liebert concert, the Southern California evening had cooled to the low seventies. The smell of barbecue cooking at the concessions near the midway still filled the air and the music from the midway rides mixed with the screams of young people on every sort of carnival contraption. Muri and I strolled past the game stands where men with Younger Eyes spent their hard earned money to win gigantic stuffed animals for their girlfriends and we stopped occasionally watch the expressions of kids on the rides as they tumbled upside down and backwards through the air. At some point, Muri bought a bag of popcorn and I found a cinnamon apple. We settled onto stools at a small table in the middle of the midway where we could watch the world go by. We people watched and commented on the old rock n roll playing on the park speakers and chatted about nothing much for almost an hour.
In my first year of blogging, on our forty-first anniversary, I offered some thoughts on how we’d made it to forty-one. In 2010, I wrote about how our years together had helped us navigate a difficult Forty-Second Year. Last year, I posted a reminiscence of our wedding day and honeymoon. Muri sometimes wonders if my readers tire of hearing about our years together, our dates nights and vacations. I know that sometimes I can be a cheerleader for long marriages and I hope that it comes across that I know it takes work, because it does. But for all the things we’ve done together and all we’ve accomplished, it is the unplanned moments like last Sunday, sitting in the middle of the midway like sixty-something teenagers, that I love the most. There is nothing like forty-four years of common experience with a person you love. It is worth every bit of effort it takes. I said it last year and I’ll say it again. She’s Still the One. Happy Anniversary, Muri.Explore posts in the same categories: love and marriage comment below, or link to this permanent URL from your own site.