Basic friendship is the secret to a long marriage (04/07/08)

Twenty-nine years ago it was a cold 40 degrees outside. Tom and I were shivering outside a Presbyterian church in Ohio, waiting for our friends and family to arrive.

Neither of us is Presbyterian. Tom is a lapsed Catholic and I was baptized a Methodist but hadn't attended church in years.

He insisted that we stand outside so our fingers wouldn't swell and prevent us from slipping on the rings we had stashed.

I complied because I remembered my first wedding. The ring had gotten stuck and I panicked and almost pulled my first husband's finger off trying to get the ring on. It was a sign that getting married to him was a big mistake but I didn't realize it at the time.

Our friends and family arrived and we went into the church. My pre-school daughter walked me down the aisle and sat with my mother in the front row.

My friend Mary stood up as my bridesmaid and Tom's buddy Richard stood up for him. The only others there were immediate family and the preacher. The rings slipped on easily (probably due to the fact that my fingers were frozen) and I only stumbled once. That was when the preacher asked if I promised, "to obey." I hesitated, and then figured I could give it a try. Fortunately Tom has never commanded me to do anything because I am just not very good at obeying.

Out of the 16 people there (not counting the preacher), five are now dead. Both of Tom's parents are gone, my stepfather and grandmother are gone and Richard died of lung cancer. I always said Richard should be the poster child for the evils of drinking, smoking and other assorted vices. But he was one of the most likable people I have ever met.

Mary is now living in Colorado and flies around the world on business trips. She is happily married and no longer works as a lowly keypunch operator like we did back in Ohio. Last time I heard from her she sent me a picture of herself in Jerusalem. I miss having her close by and wonder how we grew so far apart.

So much has changed in the last 29 years. I have held five different jobs and gotten a college education. Tom has had two businesses, and five and a half jobs. We have both gained and lost weight. He has me beat in that department as he has lost the equivalent of about four Emmas. My daughter has grown up and considers my husband to be another father. We have a granddaughter, the aforementioned Emma.

We have had hospital stays and the scars to prove it. We have considered divorce only once and not at the same time. Occasionally we stay married out of spite as much as love.

Through it all we have been friends. I think that is the difference between my two marriages. I had known my first husband my entire life. We even have baby pictures together. After we grew up we fell madly, passionately, head-over-heels in love. We got married because that is what one did when in love.

But we were never friends.

Tom and I were friends long before we were lovers. We spent hours talking about nothing and everything. We still do. We went on our first date in January of 1979 and then he didn't call me for a month. I figured he didn't like me and that was that.

We got married in April.

It has been 29 years now since that cold spring day. Twenty-nine years of being married for today. No matter what happens, I can handle it for today.

My first marriage was forever. I couldn't stand the thought of picking up his socks for the rest of my life and I left. Of course, there were other reasons but the socks were the clincher.

I don't pick up after Tom. He doesn't pick up after me. We treat each other more as equals than servants. After all these years we are still friends.

Friendship and a healthy dose of tolerance is what has kept us married so long. I am no longer certain where he leaves off and I begin. Our thoughts, feelings, and beliefs are as intertwined and tangled together as the bindweed in the shrubbery.

The rings are still on our fingers and April is still cold.[[In-content Ad]]