A 50th wedding anniversary

 

Given the status of marriage these days, it seems out of the ordinary for a couple to celebrate their 50th wedding anniversary. In fact, a quick google search confirms this: only about one in every 16 marriages reaches 50 years. 

In case you're counting, this means that just 6% of married couples get to celebrate their 50th year of marriage. The other 94% of married couples don't get to do that.

What an extraordinary accomplishment. Truly, it must be noteworthy indeed for a couple to survive 50 years together. 

Good grief. Is marriage that challenging? Or, is there something else at work here? That is, do too many people simply not know how to marry--or, alternatively, not understand how to stay married?

I don't know. Perhaps you know.

For me, this is not a theoretical issue. For me, it's real, because on April 12, 2021, which is also this year the first day of Rosh Chodesh (the beginning of a new lunar month) for the Jewish month called, Iyar, my "bride" and I celebrate our 50th wedding anniversary. Fifty years ago this day, the first day of Rosh Chodeh Iyar (in 1971), my bride, Shaina Mashe, married me. 

I am  a very lucky man. Have 50 years gone by? Doesn't seem that long to me.  

I well remember our wedding day. It didn't start off too well. On that day, we witnessed a very loud traffic accident. It looked bad. Then, close to midnight that same day, on our way to where we were to stay after the wedding for a few days, a police officer pulled us over. He wanted to know why we were on that street, in that neighborhood in that car (one that really did qualify as a "junker")?  What were we doing there?

He had stopped us perhaps 100 feet from our destination. 

I pointed this out to the man. He did not seem too impressed with my answer. I also told him we had just gotten married that afternoon. He didn't seem much impressed by that, either.

He just returned to me my driver's license. I don't remember if he said anything else.

Such a beginning to one's married life did not seem particularly auspicious--first witnessing a car accident and then experiencing a police stop that night. Were these incidents a harbinger of bad things to come? We didn't know.

Now, we have completed 50 years of a journey not yet finished. So far as I'm concerned, I'm glad it's not over. I feel ready for 50 more years.

My wife and I were lucky. Well, in truth, we were more blessed than lucky. We both came from stable homes. Both of our parents rarely, if ever, argued. To us, they had always seemed to get along.

If people relive in their own adult lives what they saw and experienced at home in their childhood, then my wife and I are definitely examples of that observation. We came from happy homes. It seemed--to me, at least--easy to figure out how to create our own happy home life.

I learned long ago that, for a happy marriage, rule number one is, when you feel like yelling about something, keep your mouth shut. Rule number two is, when in doubt, re-read rule number one.

By the way, for these two rules to work to benefit the marriage, an 80% compliance is required. Are you up to the challenge? 

I remember an incident perhaps 15 or 20 years ago. My wife and I were in our kitchen. We were discussing current politics--a favorite subject of ours. Somehow, one of us spoke as if he (or she) was one of the politicians we were in the habit of mocking. The other one picked up the cue and replied in kind--with something another such politician (worthy of mockery) might say. 

We were having fun. We were laughing--and shouting as if we were those politicians. We thought we were hilarious.

But our bubble quickly burst. One of our children, a teen (I don't remember which child it was), came into the kitchen and asked, "are you guys okay? Why are you arguing?"

I remember asking, "What? Who's arguing?" My child responded, "It sounds like you are fighting!"

My wife and I looked at each other and laughed. One of us explained that we were just mocking politicians, just playing. 

My child's next statement taught me something about our marriage. She said, "Well, you guys never fight. Don't play like this! It's not funny". That incident became a Kodak moment for me. It was something I would remember.

That child was right. My wife and I never argued--or so it seemed. Therefore, something that had sounded like an argument to a child was indeed cause for concern. It was so out of character for her Abba and Imma to do (I think now that that child was one of our daughters; I just do not remember which one).

My wife and I had developed that 'Abba and Imma character' during our courtship. That courtship had lasted 16-months. At the end of that time, we got engaged (I asked, she said yes). We got  married three months later.

During those 16 months of courtship, we both learned all we needed to know about each other. We had learned enough for us to last at least 50 years.

First, our relationship was not one of opposites attracting. Our relationship, from its very beginning, was not about opposites. It was about similarities. 

We were two people who could have been twins. We had much more in common than not. We were alike. We always ironed out differences because we had so few differences. We believed in the same things. 

More important, before we fell in love, we were friends. We really liked each other--as friends. We felt comfortable with each other. 

We were best friends before we became husband-and-wife. We were "team-mates" before we became a "married couple".

Now, some 50 years later, we are still friends. We are still a team. Thank G-d, we are very much still on the same page. 

I like my wife. I prefer her company. It's one reason I married her so long ago. It's why I love her now more than ever. If I asked her to marry me again, I'm pretty sure she'd simply smile and say, 'yes'. 

Truly, HaShem has blessed me with a "woman of valor". May my bride of "yore" remain my 'bride' to '120 years--as a 20-year old' (this sounds so much better in Hebrew than in English).

Stay tuned. This relationship continues. The love is strong. It endures.

Thank you, HaShem, for the wonderful life-partner you have chosen for me.