  Mystery
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February 18 is my forty-eighth anniversary. Robert and I will probably celebrate by staying home thanks to another story due, but the mystery of how we managed to build a life and keep it for so long plagues many people. I thought I'd take a slightly different approach to mystery this month, maybe helping writers along the way.
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The Mystery of Living Together for a Long Time
Robert always said he knew I was the one the first time he saw me, several minutes before I met him. I can't say the same, though. He wouldn't even talk to me until the third time we were together. He was a farm boy, and I was born and raised on Air Force bases, or at least in cities and towns close to bases.
Differences may attract, must. He and I were very different, and still are. I always loved to read; he couldn't read. Later we discovered he is dyslexic. I liked symphonies and plays; he preferred country and western and dances. I "planned" on marrying a tall man; Robert was five feet seven inches tall, the same as I. I barely knew how to start a car; he could take them apart and put them back together better than new. I could barely tell what a cow was; he had been a cowboy and horse breaker. I thought flowers were romantic; he thought they were a waste of money.
Over the years, we didn't often have "smooth sailing." In fact, the trails and tribulations nearly downed us at times. However, we were friends first before we were lovers, and I believe that made the difference.
One time when life seemed too much, I was going away. I got in the car to leave and drove maybe ten miles when the car started making a strange noise. The first thing I thought of doing was calling Robert - he would know what to do, how to help me. Even then I turned to him.
I wrote a story about the loss of our baby girl. Robert, by himself, took that small casket from Woodward, where we lived, to his hometown of Hooker, where Regina would be buried at her great-grandfather's feet. I remained in the hospital and didn't expect him back that night, but after visiting hours, he arrived. He didn't want me to be alone. The full story can be found at "Romance Midst Tragedy" .
We raised three special children. We reared them together. If we disagreed about something, we discussed it without the children listening. We provided a united front as far as they knew. Oo, boy, they just didn't know. We did disagree, and we did find ourselves in a position where we couldn't find neutral ground, but we learned how to give and how to bend.
Yes, how we ever became a couple and then stayed one for forty-eight years is a mystery, but I really think the answer is we respected and loved each other completely. We couldn't and can't imagine life without the other.
I realize this isn't my normal Mystery Newsletter, but I hope you don't mind. |
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Mystery: February 17, 2010 Issue [#3550]
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