53

Ruth and I eloped fifty-three years ago today.  She was engaged to a guy named Mike when the two of us stopped for a drink after work on Friday, September 10th.  We’d made similar stops before but always as a part of a group.  This time it was just the two of us. We talked for a bit, and she started to cry.  We were married twenty-two hours after I asked her why she was crying and she said, “I don’t want to marry Mike.”

My response to her was simple.  “How about me?”  They write books and make movies about stories like ours. Some of our friends were surprised. Some called it a fairy tale. I learned later that a few expected us to fail. In any case, it was our life for fifty-one years and sixteen days.

When the story unfolded, people who knew us weren’t surprised that Ruth married in such a fashion, but they were shocked that I did.  She was spontaneous, some might say impulsive, and I was a planner.  We were opposites in that regard. She made several life changing decisions quickly.  Some were welcome. Some were not.

We lived with two friends of mine, Chuck and Mike, for the first few weeks of our married life.  She came home with a puppy one day to surprise us all.  He spent each night in a box next to our bed.  I hung my arm over the side of the bed and into the box.  My hand calmed him until he had to pee.  He’d nuzzle my hand and wine a bit.  I got up and carried him down three flights of stairs so he could do his business.  I did that for several days until he could make it through the night.

We had him for less than a year.  Once we moved into our home on Stockbridge Avenue, someone stole him and my lawn mower from our back yard.

We had a total of four dogs (Pookie, Buffy, Pooh and Pookie Two) and a cat (Toby) during our time together.  She brought them home with no input from me.   She’d walk in the door and announce her new find.  I just rolled on.  The truth of the matter was I was Ok with what made her happy.  She thought the kids needed a pet, so she brought them home.

Both Pookie’s and Pooh were either stolen or ran away.  Things like that happen when you let them run free.

Buffy was everyone’s favorite.  We had him for about eight years.  We got him before David was born and had to put him to sleep after he lost control of his kidneys and went blind.

I was allergic to cats, but Toby filled the void after we lost Buffy.  We had him for over twenty years.

Ruth bought cars in the same manner that she brought home pets.  If she thought she needed a new one, she bought it.  She was going to pay for it, so there was no discussion.  She got what she liked and what suited her best.  Her favorite was a Crossfire.  She wanted to buy a Miata before we got married but settled for a Pinto.  She and young Brady looked cool in that Crossfire.  When Eva was born, she sold it and bought an SUV so there’d be room for her granddaughter.

After David, Elizabeth and Michael were all in college, she came home one day and announced that our new pontoon was being delivered the next. She bought it on a payday Friday on her way home from work.  Again, there was no discussion.

We have over two-hundred framed photos and paintings in our two homes.  Ruth has well over a hundred necklaces on display in our closets and a larger number of rings and bracelets in jewelry boxes and hanging storage contraptions.

We have a collection of hand-crafted wooden bowls and woven baskets that she purchased when we traveled.  I knew we had it all but never really took note of it.  You can acquire lots of things in fifty-one years and sixteen days.  While I still have the things, I don’t have her.  I’d trade it all for a bit of time and a chance to say the things I didn’t.  Our marriage ended as quickly as it began.  We were together one moment, and the next she was gone.

If you’re married, or have a significant other, cherish each day.  If you’re looking for a companion, consider the long haul as you ponder the short-term benefits of such a relationship.

I have a young friend who got married about a year ago.  He’s handsome and she’s beautiful.  They both have great jobs and promising careers.  If they stay the course, they’ll acquire things like Ruth and me.  While he was describing his new life, I asked if I could offer a bit of unsolicited advice.  “Sure.”

“Never take her for granted and one day you will. Even with your best intentions, you’ll be tempted to think everything will be wonderful forever.  You have to do the work to make it work.”