Growing Older with You

Looking back while growing older

We are growing older and we are doing it together. The best part is that we are together.

Today, I watch young lovers and remember how it was with us, when we shared our first Valentine’s day and our first anniversary. We were young, in love, in awe of our relationship, and happy. We still are in love, in awe, and happy, though not as young. When I think about those days, I find myself feeling wistful. For a moment, I find myself wishing I could go back, just for a moment.

It was fun, learning to know you. I knew what I wanted in my man, but I wasn’t sure I’d ever find him. Past experiences left me wondering if there were any men left that I’d want to trust. I wanted a man of integrity and character. The side of tracks from which he hailed mattered not to me, nor did I care if he came from a family of wealth or want. I wanted a man who was kind to animals because I knew he’d be kind to children. And I wanted a man who was committed to God and to his church. I wanted a man who treated his parents with love and respect, because I knew if I found that man, he’d take care of me. It didn’t matter to me if he was tall, dark, and handsome because I knew that in time his looks would change; dark hair would become gray.

I didn’t marry into wealth, but I married into worth. I knew when I saw your commitment to God that you would mean what you said. For certain, because of the integrity of your character, I knew there would be no shame in bearing your name. I was not afraid of growing older with you.

From this day forward

We said our vows that snowy, wintery day, We committed to walk together from that day forward. Life was special because everything was new, fresh, and green. We hoped to grow old together. Now, forty years later, we are growing older together, still.

Our six kids arrived one by one (and we wished for more). The days were long; the nights were short. We wondered if we would ever feel rested again. There wasn’t time nor opportunity to escape the planet for one day of peaceful sleep. While we had tomorrows ahead of us, sometimes it was  hard to take time to enjoy the day and its responsibilities. Yet, being together and joining our efforts as parents forged us into an intimate team. You declared that one day, these wild stallions would rise up and call me blessed because that’s what Proverbs says. I wasn’t sure that I believed you.

For richer, for poorer

When the kids were small and before all of them arrived, we made a job change and a move. Our living expenses went up and our income went down. Times were tight, and we had to pay for water. We taught the kids, “If it’s yellow, let it mellow; if it’s brown, flush it down.” We cancelled magazine subscriptions to get money back to buy milk and prayed for God provide a way, and He did. Our kids never knew how lean those days were.

When they talk about those days, they have positive memories of their papa playing ball with them in the backyard. They remember the whole family riding bikes around town in single file with the baby in the back seat of your bike.

You started your own business. I knew you could even when you weren’t sure. We purchased a larger house because we’d outgrown the walls and yard of that small place. You kept working, sacrificing, providing, and loving all of us. You paid the bills and when there was hardly anything left over, it didn’t matter because we  had each other and were still together. Parenting struggles became less as our offspring grew and matured. Somehow, they managed to maintain what we taught them despite our mistakes and failures. Through it all, we were still together.

In sickness and in health

In those “in sickness and in health days,” we did it together. When you fell off a roof and shattered both heels, we made it through without any income for awhile. We tightened our belts and prayed for God’s faithful provision as you healed. We learned to sacrifice, to value contentment,  and to acknowledge the blessing of life.  This time, again, we would do it again. And we did.

I was a Registered Nurse before we were married, nursed babies and provided care for our six growing children, so I went to work nursing patients. You stayed home and vacuumed the house in your wheelchair. You fixed supper and couldn’t understand why I wasn’t home from work at five when I didn’t even get off until then. Our kids somehow survived the new normal that was more chaos than normal. We laugh now about the time Sarah Beth was fixing rice for supper. You turned off the water to make a plumbing repair at that moment and wouldn’t let her call me at work because who needs water to cook rice, anyhow? It’s funny now, but it was not funny then.

When we were on a short vacation and you cracked five ribs in a motorcycle accident, I won the bet with all the kids on how many ribs were broken. A few years later, we made a trip to the ER to get stitches when you sliced your arm while installing vinyl siding on our house.

Eight years ago, your “widowmaker” rocked our world. You had two stents put in less than forty minutes after you drove yourself to our local hospital. Our kids came in to help me be strong. That day I realized the promise you made that one day our kids would rise up and call me blessed was happening now. I realized that we were also growing older, which is what I wanted to do – with you.

More sickness and health

Two years ago, we got my cancer diagnosis. We didn’t know what the future held – but we knew (and still know) Who holds the future. We rested in that promise after shedding a bunch of tears. You promised me you’d be with me every step of the way because when you took those vows, “in sickness and in health,” you meant every word.

You only missed one of my many Doctor’s appointments, that being for “consent for surgery”, and regretted that absence ever since. I told you I’d be okay going by myself – but I wasn’t. After that, nothing could keep you from going with me. In time, visits to another doctor called for a five-hour round trip ride. You took me, every single time. You still take me to every test and visit. Then you started calling my appointments, “our appointments”. Every surgery (5 in less than two years), every follow-up appointment, you have been there. You have been tough when I’ve needed you to be tough; you’ve been tender in the moments I needed tenderness, especially in the “for worse” times. 

When cancer took my breasts, you said you didn’t need breasts – you needed me. You’ve lived that every day since that reality. I know that while our bodies are changing, our hair is graying, our hearing is declining, and we move more slowly than we did, we are still the same people inside. Now we’re more experienced, more mature, a little bit wiser, and even more in love than we were those forty years ago.

For richer, for poorer

We’re not young anymore. When our kids were small, I said I wanted to grow old with you. Many times I wondered if you’d leave me too soon and I’d be left to raise our young stallions and fillies by myself. I planned so many of your funerals when you were working late and I didn’t know where you were. I worried (sometimes) and prayed (most times). Though I knew God would meet all my needs, I hoped He wouldn’t need to meet my needs without a husband. 

We are growing older, and we are doing it together. I am grateful that God said “Yes” to those prayers of mine, to let us grow old together. I like our journey even more than I did when it began. Now I understand what older people meant years ago when they told us “It just keeps getting better and better.”

To have and to hold 

There is a settledness and a calmness in our marriage now that we didn’t have earlier. Perhaps it is because we were busy with bills and babies, or maybe it was because we were dealing with tantrums and teenagers. Possibly, it was because we were finding our way through the maze of maintaining marriage while motivating kids and managing schedules. Maybe, just maybe, it’s because our kids are grown and we are settled into growing older together. This is us: together.

Before I found you, I made a list. I wanted a man who was tender as well as tough. You’ve been that all these years. At the birth of each baby, you couldn’t wait to hold our little one in your arms, after giving me my turn. I feel your velvet in the way you love our adult kids and our grandkids. Your passion for your family only grows as we grow older.

I wanted a man who was a leader, and I found you. Following your leadership is easy because you lead without waffling, and direct without commanding. Submission – that dreadful word to some women – is a delight and something that usually comes easily because you lead instead of governing. I’m loving your leadership as we grow older together.

Coffee and disagreements while growing old

I wanted a man who could make me laugh. There are times I don’t want to laugh, don’t feel like laughing, and don’t intend to laugh. You always come through. Even when I’m frustrated with you and even when I’m angry, you keep finding ways to make me laugh. I love laughing with you as we grow older still.

I wanted a man who knew it was okay to disagree. We still disagree on the best time to start the day and how early someone has to be in order to not be late. You wish I’d close the drawers on my dresser completely and I wish you’d take off your shoes when you get home from work. You wish I’d keep a list of groceries I need so I can remember when you ask me if there’s anything I need in town. I wish the to do list I have would get completed, just once.

We still disagree on coffee and chocolate. I love both and you refuse to touch either. Yet, you keep pulling through McDonalds drive-through when we are road tripping, just because you know I love coffee – and you love me more. You still dislike coffee kisses, and I still try to sneak them to you and manage to sometimes surprise you. You refuse to eat chocolate, but buy chocolate for me because you know I love chocolate less than I love you.

Growing older together

We’re at a new phase in life. Our half-dozen are on their own. Now they’re bringing their babies home and we get to grandparent together. You have been my steel and my velvet, my tough and tender all these years.

We reminisce about those good days – and delight in those memories. We’ve weathered so many storms and seasons together – and I am safe with you.

In this autumn season of life with winter up ahead, we are still together. There is no one I enjoy being with more than you. I cherish the memories of our past, and I treasure the truth of our marriage: commitment to the vows we made to God.

In this Valentine season, I want you to know that I love growing older with you. Even today, there is absolutely no one I’d rather be with than you. And I want to grow older still, with you.