Today is our 47th wedding anniversary, so I will just make a quick blog entry, then spend the rest of the day with my husband.
Sometimes I am amazed that we have made it this long. In terms of relationships, there isn’t a lot of longevity in my family. My parents were divorced when I was about three and my father remarried when I was five. I was raised primarily by my mother, but did spend a lot of time with my father and his new family, which is where I got to experience the joy of living in a house with 15 other people and one bathroom.
My mother’s parents split when she was quite young, and I recently found out my grandmother was somewhat of a harlot. She liked her beer and her men. That side of the family is rift with divorces and multiple marriages, and it would take a whole book just to talk about all of that. So I won’t.
When Carl and I married, it was with the vow and the hope that we would manage to stay together for the long haul. Often we would joke that we couldn’t get a divorce because I needed him to tune my guitar and he needed me to chase the snakes out of our woodpile.
I still have the guitar, so I guess we’re stuck with each other for a few more years.