60 Years of Marriage

60 years of marriage doesn’t happen by mistake or happenstance.

I walked in their door same as every time. Rote muscle memory down to the smell.

But this times tears were streaming down, mascara running and my face was splotchy from crying so hard.

My marriage is in a rough spot and its no secret or shame. Neither one of us have done anything wrong, but two very different people chose each other, and now there are growing pains.

60 yearsTo get to the end, 60 years later clutching a fragile tough grand daughter…you have to go thru a little hell first. And right now I’m in the latter.

I walked in the door face red and embarrassed (I don’t get to visit often and this was my grand entrance. Head held low.

And gramma and I go back and forth for a while, and then gramps in his slow southern way proclaims

“I don’t know why you two are talking so much, there’s only one solution.”

Translation: hang on, hands up, and pray.

Have I mentioned how much I love them.

I walked to the car extra luggage, quilt in tow, head held high.

Ready to fight for my marriage, ready to thrive.

I’ve got God on my side.

And in that home up north I know so well, everything I’ve been pouring out and drained was poured back into me and my broken self.

And being in the presence of 60 years of old love was exactly what I needed. Hearing, “quit talking, there’s only one solution” was exactly what I needed in my hard marriage to a good man.

  • J
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Raspberry Cobbler and Lipstick

It doesn’t matter how old I get some things are just right and good and important.

Sitting on the kitchen counter watching my gramma make raspberry cobbler, one hand in a cookie jar, one hand on a mason jar of tea, will always fall into that category.

And despite the fact that I’m 28 and peruse Ulta and Sephora at leisure (at least online when the kids are asleep), there is still magic and mystery in her makeup drawers.

And despite knowing from 28 years of experience that some shades only 60 year olds can pull off, I absolutely must try at least 3 shades of lipstick in one day.

And the vials of perfume leave me smelling of her and I secretly love it – even though its hard to breathe for a moment.

And there have been times I’ve got my feelings hurt and not understood their ideology or ranking.

grammaBut I can’t seem to say no to blue gill fishing with a can of corn or balancing among her roses.

And even from states away ,every Little Debbie Brownie takes me to one kitchen. And my love of coffee started with her lap and sugar milk. Something sacred and sweet.

And there is no real spiritual message here, just a reminder to slow down and savor moments. And when you grow up,  go back to the places and people who love you.

And don’t forget that sometimes grandparents are the magic of up north.

  • J