On Turning 41

You probably think this is going to be one of those, “OMG, I just turned a corner and ran right into middle age!” kind of stories. But it isn’t. I passed age 41 a long time ago. And if anyone refers to me as middle aged I’m going to hug them. This is a different tale about a marriage celebrating its 41st birthday, today! Imagine, being married to the same person for four decades, plus one year. Just how long ago was that? Well, there were no cell phones, no personal computers, no laptops, no iPads. The Vietnam war had just ended three years earlier. The Alaskan oil pipeline had just started pumping oil and the Bee Gee’s were hot with Stayin’ Alive.

I was a new engineer, just starting a career five months past graduation and my girlfriend would not marry me until she finished college in May. She had promised her dad that she’d finish school before marrying since one of her sisters had not, and never did finish. So in a small country church we gathered with family and a few friends and had a wedding that could not have cost more than $500, probably considerably less. My fiancé had no diamond engagement ring, she did not want one. We both had $71 plain gold bands for our wedding rings. We had no money, but also no debt. College was pretty inexpensive back then and most families could cash flow the costs without student loans. I had gotten a very good starting offer so I had saved enough the first few months to be debt free.

Early on we rented an inexpensive older apartment, then moved into a house trailer that we bought with payments, it was only $5,000. We then bought our first house after about a year for $32,500. That was the last time we moved. We are still in that house today, for forty years so far. We’ve remodeled, added on and expanded the house nine times over the years. And what was 1440 sq ft then is about 3,000 sq ft now. And it has been paid for at least the last 15 years, I forget exactly when.

So what is life with one person for forty-one years like. In a word, it is nice. It is comfortable. It is strong. You learn each other’s language and you get much better at making each other happy. You can sit together without speaking for an hour without getting nervous or uncomfortable from the silence. And in our case you can recount a thousand tennis matches played, a thousand miles hiked, a thousand miles of distance running and perhaps a thousand fish caught while fishing together. You can count three grown millennial kids making their way through life after a good start in our home. You can count millions in investments and almost as much given away. You can count a dozen cats and dogs that lived their short appointed lives at our place. But the memories of those forty-one years, you cannot possibly count all of those. They simply are vastly more than can be counted.

We have had a few tragedies, as a brother and two nephews died far too young, and as another friend left a too young widow when his corporate plane went down in the trees. We’ve dodged false diagnoses of cancer, heart disease and stroke to remain pretty healthy into our sixties. But we know there are no guarantees going forward and that with each year that we live together our remaining years are one less. I suspect each of us would prefer not to be the one that wins the longevity game since it is very hard to imagine a meaningful life that did not have our other half in it. But of course we would because we have never quit anything and certainly would never quit on life. The last three years we’ve both been retired. And they have been three of our best years. We do more together than most couples because we share the running, hiking, tennis, fishing, skiing, travel and off-roading hobbies that make up most of our recreation. But we also have separate lives, she’s off on a European River Cruise with a girlfriend next week and my hobby jobs take me to other cities frequently, usually without her. But more often than not we spend our time together. It is very fortunate for me that she’s always been my best friend. I can’t imagine spending that much time with anyone else.

She is patient, she is kind and she takes care of people because that is who she is. Whether it is me, our widowed neighbor, the older tennis players that she gets out to play because it is so good for them or anyone she sees in need, she helps without thinking about it. She listens so people who like to talk seek her out and they talk and talk and talk. But she is kind and she is willing to listen, more patient than I would be. She builds, including a good bit of our house, all of our landscaping and outbuildings. She paints and cleans and fixes things. Growing up on a small farm makes you handy, even compared to an engineer like me. I was a legend at work, I never cut the grass, ran the leaf blower or weed eater. I bought her Christmas presents like table saw’s, routers and power washers. Yet she is crafty and can decorate and accessorize the house beautifully. She can sew clothes from scratch and she is an awesome cook. I on the other hand am great at thermodynamics, and not much else.

So is there a secret to staying married for many decades? I’ve wondered that myself. Is it luck, skill or just purely random chance that determines marital success? After much thought I think I know the answer to that question. I think there is a secret. And it is very simple, marry someone like my wife.

What do you think? Are lifetime marriages a thing of the past or still a valid concept?

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