In 1979 a few days before this date of the 26th in July, a discussion was in serious pursuit.  Allen and I were about to make a big decision. I said, “Ok, but we’ll see in ten years where we are at.” Would it sound reasonable today, forty-four years later, how the first ten years sped by so quickly? In 1989 we laughed and said, um, we need more time together.  

A couple of days ago while sitting in the living room, a storm possibly brewing down south of us, he said, “That day I was so happy and in disbelief.” My memory easily skirted back to how we planned to leave early from our jobs, change into better clothes, drive to Bisbee to the courthouse, and enter the judge’s chambers at two o’clock. We had told no one. I can feel, see, and understand it as if yesterday. I knew he was happy, and so was I or we wouldn’t be doing such a spur-of-the-moment, lifetime change.  

“Why in disbelief?” He said, “Because I couldn’t believe you would ever marry me.”

I have always kept a diary since I was fifteen and when in my early fifties, I dug those out, glanced at them, and tossed them out forever. Once Allen and I ‘got together’, I jotted down more details, places, people, events, and feelings for years and years. A few months ago, I began reading through all those ‘marriage’ journals. It is amazing what I am finding out. Patterns being set, patterns that should have spoken loudly as to the future but ignored for various reasons. Noting the smallest of details that would end up having more than one huge impact on life actions that could have been avoided or maintained in a better fashion. The things we did, the things others did, the effects of all. But isn’t that part of living on stairsteps, up and down, up and down, all of which take you places?

But in every entry, I also noted the pattern of what it takes to be together, the outlying and underneath sources that bind. Recently, we gratefully reviewed the lessons of the necessity of patience and the value it gives. Waiting on the right moment, the right day, or even the right year. The usage and acreage of patience are broad.

Our story, like many others, is our own. And here we are, having conversations without words required at times and having conversations we enjoy hearing each other say. I could go on. What we are looking forward to is that we are here, in each other’s eyesight, hearing distance, and care.

Knowing what I know now, if to rewind  backward to that afternoon in 1979 when Allen asked me, I probably would’ve said “Ok, but let’s see where we are in fifty years.”

Time goes far too fast — frankly my dear, a true Happy Anniversary!