If I chronicled the 48 years of marriage I would say we had no real time for each other, our vows were never tested and never our devotion to each other.
In all that time we had four children and all four have given us joy and sorrow, but never regret. Our regret is when something happens to our children, we have never had time for self-regrets because there is never any time to do so.
We have faced depressions, deaths, and permanent disabilities and all we asked for was time to deal with them and time to heal. Time has been our ally, our reprieve from all the matters that engulf us, but never any real rest from it all.
For forty-eight years we cared about each other, putting each other first, living for that person as if it were our own life, but that is what marriage is: caring for the other, making sure the other is happy and with no compromise.
Our worries are simple: our children who we live for and love, each separately but equally. They hurt and we hurt, we know no bounds to prevent us from coming to assist them in their time of need.
Forty-eight years ago after a beautiful wedding on a beautiful day, we flew off to Europe and had a beautiful honeymoon only to fly home and begin the hard life that would follow. We wonder when the next shoe will drop and when it will finally crush us, but we never wonder if we will deal with it alone. I would never leave my wife with all the heartache we have suffered and I’m positive she wouldn’t jump ship either.
All these many years together went quickly, too quickly, and yet as we retired and started the last phase of our lives living in retirement we still visit hospitals and travel great distances for the sake of those we love.
In spite of all the pain, sadness and setbacks, I will never regret all these years with this little family of mine because of the wonderful woman who always stands by my side and honored me by taking my last name.
I love you, Ellen.
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