Another Anniversary, Another Reason to Celebrate! Here's to Us!

Today I have been married for 38 years. That's a long, long time.  I remember when we were young, and yes, it seems like yesterday, that we used to talk about the Beatle's song  "When I'm Sixty Four".  We used to smile and say that would be us. Wellllll....here we are. Long ago, in that far away land of youth and adventure, our young minds couldn't really fathom that minutes would turn into hours, hours to days, and days to years.  Until ....until...well...until now.  Here we are, sitting together, watching tv, kids grown, grand kids yes, on our knee.  It's that time.


Thirty eight years ago I had only been in England, my husband's home country, for about three days.  I was starry eyed and all I knew was that he loved me.  The two guys before him that I was serious about told me they loved me, and one asked me to marry him; I didn't believe him.  I even told him that he just thought he loved me. But my husband....I was sure he loved me.  I still am.

Listen, don't ever get married and think that you will both stay the "same person".  That's just impossible.  I mean, you will still have the basics, but so much will change. Things will happen that you don't plan, things will throw you for a huge loop and you'll find yourself wondering if you made a mistake.  In my opinion, the only way anyone can make a mistake is to marry for the wrong reasons.  It will be just quicker for me to tell you the right reason: love.

When I met my Phil, he was a wild young Englishman who had this presence and confidence. We were both living on a kibbutz in the Galilee region of Israel.  We were living there, working a half day while taking Hebrew the other half.  We didn't hit it off to a great start, but we became the best of friends and just hung out.  He helped me with my Hebrew homework, hung around me on hikes through the Israeli desert and made me laugh.  We were in my room one night doing homework and I got really frustrated, threw the pencil across the room, scowled and spit out, "I can't do this".  He picked up the pencil, threw it back at me and said, "Yes you can!" That's all it took, he had me.

 One afternoon he came back to his room after working in the refet (barn-  milking the cows) and I told him we "had to talk."  He asked me if it could wait until after his shower,  and of course I said it couldn't.  I let him know I felt more for him than "just a friend" and he smiled with a relieved look on his face and told me he felt the same.  But he added that we should take it "nice and slow".  Of course I agreed.  Funny thing, it might have been a few days later that he asked me to marry him; on top of Masada, where all the Jews killed themselves.  (Hmmmmmm prophetic???)



That was eons ago, at least it seems that.  Marriage is more work and possibly more difficult than raising children.  At least when you have two totally different, extremely stubborn, ridiculously passionate and opinionated people such as ourselves.  But neither of us wanted to settle into a relationship where we just tolerated one another.  We actually wanted to keep the "spark", the passion, the friendship.  We had to fight, we had to fight hard, both of us....but so far, so good.  Yes, there was a time we almost didn't make it, but in the end, we both realized we didn't want to live without each other; without growing old together.

He has been my only husband, and I am his only wife.  I love that. I'm proud of that.  We both deserve the benefits.  We have the scars to prove it, and the love to bind us.  It's not about staying together for the kids, (although that is important), it's not about being too lazy to do anything, because we weren't, it's about grace, prayer, love and miracles.

Here's to us Phil....."celebrate we will, cause life is short be sweet for certain. We climb on two by two to be sure these days continue!"