Fifty years ago, on November 2, 2018, a young woman of 20 and a young man just 23 were married in the outdoor chapel of The Thacher School in Ojai, California. Today that no-longer-young couple celebrates our 50thanniversary in Maui. What an amazing journey it has been. The service itself was “mixed,” meaning a combination of Catholic (Wayne) and Presbyterian (me). We had to get special dispensation from Cardinal McIntyre to be married at Thacher. It was imperative that the priest preside over the exchange of vows. We had already memorized our vows when we met him. He told us we could not use them. The Episcopalian words that my parents had memorized and used 26 years prior and that were our choice were identical to the Catholic vows, except that the vows we intended to exchange included “to love and to cherish ‘till death do us part.” There was a moment when Wayne, indirectly but firmly, made it clear that we would welcome the priest’s attendance, but only if he allowed us to include that “bit” about loving and cherishing. I look back and consider that perhaps we were more mature and wise than our ages would have suggested.
There are those who say we are an inspiration. What a compliment. As “youngsters,” I suspect we looked at people when they celebrated their big anniversaries and thought (1) they were kind of old and (2) it must have been easy for them. From the “lofty” advantage of sitting on the golden balcony, I can say with utmost confidence that (1) I don’t feel old (despite the fact that I recognize I am no longer young), and (2) nothing is always easy over a 50-year period.
We have all been inspired by others whose own challenges were never obvious. About 25 years ago, three couples we knew well in our church split up. While the reasons for each were valid and unrelated, I recall the wife of one older couple, a partnership we considered inspirational and of “pillar” variety, urged the couples to stay together, that every marriage goes through times of real challenge. At the time, we were shocked to realize that this seemingly perfect couple apparently had experienced their own struggles.
It is impossible to observe or understand the interior of any marriage. One couple we met this morning, celebrating their 30th, noted that everyone they knew had predicted they would never last. Apparently they were introduced and then married very quickly in their 20s. We all know couples that seem perfectly matched but don’t go the distance. While I could list any number of elements that have kept us together for 50 years, I credit four as being critical: our circle of family and friends, the fact that neither of us gives up easily, a shared sense of humor, and luck.
Starting with the last, it has always seemed to me that the two of us, though hardly fully formed at 20 and 23, are pretty much the same people that we were when we got married. I consider it lucky that our lives have generally continued along relatively predictable lines. Neither of us has undergone a radical personality, political, or health change. In many ways we remain married to the same person who attracted us in the first place. On our 10thanniversary, Wayne asked us both to consider how each of us had most impacted the other. We agreed – having come to the conclusion independently – that he had helped me to develop more confidence in myself and that I had helped him to be less moody and more positive about things in general. Both improvements strengthened our relationship.
We have been extraordinarily blessed to share life’s journey with exceptional people. Starting with our college friends and family members and expanding to those with whom we formed relationships in our professional/sports/personal lives. We have been members of remarkable church communities that took seriously and proactively the work of social justice. We have always tended to like the same people, and it has been a gift to share enduring friendships with many other couples. Each of us has also created special bonds with individuals. There are those who have found their ways into my life at times of crises of self-confidence and helped me step back and gain better perspective. I am sure the same is true for Wayne.
Both of us were athletes (I hate saying we are former athletes…) and good students. The latter was probably more natural for Wayne than I; I worked hard and came into my own in school later than he. There is nothing like dropping out of college after one’s sophomore year and graduating seven years later with one toddler and one newborn to focus one’s attention and hone one’s academic skills! We played on numerous sports teams together. We always valued teamwork and how critical it was never to throw in the towel just because a game wasn’t going right. In fact, one of my favorite sports moments (retrospectively) came when I was playing for The Hot Flashes, an over-30 women’s soccer team on which I played for 13 years/26 seasons. I loved the team and the game and was generally considered a strong, not flashy, player. Different coaches played me in different positions, which always kind of puzzled me but is a reminder that perceptions vary. One Saturday I was not playing well, for inexplicable reasons. Our coach, Corky Logsdon, pulled me, walked me away from the bench, put his arm around my shoulders, and said, “Ruthie, what’s wrong. You’re playing like shit!” I burst into tears and said I had no idea. He kept me out a few minutes longer then put me back in, where (I think…) I played better. I have been fortunate to have a lot of Corkys in my life. People who believe in me, talk me through the tough moments, and generously put me back in the game.
As for that final gift, I cannot imagine getting through life, much less a long marriage, without a sense of humor. Wayne and I still make each other laugh, still know how to locate the other’s funny bone, still look for the humor in even difficult moments. We happen to share a great many interests, though we also have separate passions. We’ve always tried to respect each other’s work and allegiances. Frankly, there are also things we don’t talk about. Works for us.
My latest metaphor about marriage is that it’s somewhat like losing one’s wallet on a big trip, which I did earlier this week on our way to Hawaii. In it were my driver’s license, a couple of credit cards, and some cash. I discovered it was missing halfway between Incline Village and Sacramento. The immediate question, of course, was whether or not I could get through security at the airport. We talked about turning around. No time. We decided that, if I were stopped, Wayne would go on, and then I would head back to Incline and retrace my steps. At no time did we consider bailing or that it was essential (though certainly preferable) to travel together. We knew we could figure out something.
Fortunately, I had my Sam’s and Costco cards – both with photos— and a checkbook showing our address. While my carry-on luggage and my person were checked quite thoroughly, the TSA agents were professional, courteous, and helpful. We joked about other passengers dressed in costume for Halloween, and they let me through. I was grateful that they did their jobs with compassion. Meanwhile, Wayne had zipped through TSA Pre and headed to the gate, not knowing if I would join him or not. Sometimes Life is unpredictable. When we arrived in Maui, I couldn’t pick up the rental car. We adjusted. And the humor of the situation was not lost on us, given that Wayne had left his wallet at a gas station in Tucson just two weeks ago. (Maybe we aregetting old!) The fact is, our trip didn’t start quite like we planned, but we readjusted, created some alternate strategies, kept our cool, were helped by strangers, and had faith that it would all work out. It has, including the fact that both wallets were found and returned.
If the above metaphor doesn’t work for you, let me try hair… Mine has never been predictable; it’s never been the long, flowing, glowing, straight locks that are written about in novels, cast in movies, and certainly the preferred style for most women. I used to worry about it, throw my hairbrush when unruly curls sprang stubbornly through the strongest hairspray (much to my young husband’s shock), and even ironed it at one (silly) stage of my life. For too long I tried to look like someone I would never be. Marriage can be that way. Whether we know it or not, we all have expectations about what one is “supposed” to look like. Somewhere along the way, I learned to embrace my hair as it was (except for the graying part), just as I grew to recognize that what makes our marriage strong is that we are our own selves, not trying to be like anybody else. A perfect picture we will never be. I like to think we are more interesting.
What I know is this: life is too short to panic, to be acrimonious, to be too judgmental, or to lose one’s sense of humor. It is never too long to forget to be grateful or to stop and appreciate the beauty of the journey. 50 years can pass in a blink.
Glass Full 
Thank you, hon……..you’ve painted our picture well. I’m proud of us! I love you!
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