My Anne is aging in a couple of days. I know all of the old clichés like older women are like fine wine. As they age they get better. I’m afraid most middle-aged women would scream at me or hit me if I said this. Yet, I truly believe that my Anne is a beautiful lady who with age continues to get better! Yeah, I could say that she is a hottie and oozes great personality, which she does, but more so she is truly an example of a servant leader who over the last 40 years has laid down her life for her God and her family.
I know that the reality for all of us, myself included, is that we are average lookers and that our culture’s fixation with either skinny women or buff six-pack type guys is purely a pipe dream. I joke, which I shouldn’t, that I married Anne for her off the wall sense of humor, spiritual liveliness and intellectual sharpness and her dirty dishwater blonde hair. I know that at times my Anne lives in the shadow of other women, like her sisters, who she perceives to be beauties as she thinks she is the ugly duckling. I know that watching my Anne go through all of the various machinations with our daughter’s weddings brought back many of her childhood memories that are tough. Anne would have rather played horse with her brother instead of putting on makeup. Yet, both of her sisters are jealous of Anne who had all of the friends and great personality.
I know us guys often joke about trading our wives in for either someone half their age or being tracked down by some cougar that wants a married guy. I have been truly blessed, spoiled and given everything in the relationship I have with my Anne. She is able to get up at the predawn hour to trudge on the canal with our herd or will stay up late to watch a movie via Netflix on our Ipad or go out with some of our friends not thinking about only getting a few hours of sleep. She is always quick to jump in, clean up messes, look like she is worth millions and then quickly be in the back yard picking up the dog mess or doing my dad’s laundry, which can be messier.
Friendship for a lifetime is a gift, which is hard to fathom what it would be like to be single and not have the sense of safety, security, hominess and love. Regardless of what has happened I have this feeling of wholeness, completeness and joy that words can’t describe. Yeah, my Anne is the ultimate multi-tasker who can jump from being upset with one of our teens, single moms or me and the next second is planning for a trip in a few weeks. She is the one who knows how to flex and give of herself to such an extent that I’m protected and spoiled.
I know that one of the heart aches we share is watching our parents age and come close to the time they will leave us and go home to heaven. My Anne was incredible with my mom’s journey with cancer. She gave me the freedom, which I am slow to give her, to visit and be my emotional rock. I know that with my dad she has spent endless hours loving him when he has not been the most loveable person. I know that the most difficult fact of life is knowing that her mom and dad will age and have something happen to their health. I’m selfish because most of our vacation time will spent with our parents when I want some alone time with her.
So I have decided to take her away for the day and night of her birthday. My dad will move into a group home this Thursday and she is sooo concerned that his first few days work out fine. Yet, I know that grandpa, even if he could think ahead, would want Anne to have a special day for her B-day celebration. So I’m surprising her with a short trip away and a night at a neat B & B. Our problems won’t disappear but we will have each other to share the journey of looking at each other’s wrinkles or beauty marks.
I do remember the day almost 40 years ago when I set eyes on this very short, longhaired dishwatery blonde who had the strangest accent and had this bent little pinky. We were both attending a Bible Camp sponsored by InterVarsity Christian Fellowship in the Santa Cruz area. We were at the boardwalk and I was a longhaired Jesus Freak Hippy type while she was the missionary kid. I’m so thankful that she didn’t tell me to get lost and instead talked to me and wooowed me.
No comments:
Post a Comment