A few months ago, I was approached by a young woman I have known for some time. She is only about half my age – a city girl, a secretary at a small business about 30 miles from where I lurk in the Missouri Outback.
“How long have you and Laura been married?” she asked.
“Over 40 years.”
“That long. I just can’t imagine it.”
I grinned at her. “That’s the difference in our ages,” I said. “You can’t imagine it and I just can’t remember it.”
“No, I mean, being together for over 40 years is a big deal.”
“Well, we haven’t been together all that time,” I said. “We were separated on two occasions for a few months, and Laura, as you know, spent four years in Afghanistan recently. We only saw each other once a year during that time.”
“Yes, but you’re still together. How does a marriage survive all that?”
“Aw, we have a mutual admiration society,” I said. “We both admire me.”
She laughed. “I think it’s amazing.”
“Well, it’s an accomplishment at least,” I said, “but it hasn’t always been easy. I’m lucky. My wife is the best person I have ever known, and the toughest woman I have ever met.”
“Did you guys date for a long time before you got married?” she asked.
“Nope. We went on our first date, and she moved in.”
“Really?”
“Yep. I didn’t stand a chance.”
“Do you guys fight?”
“Now and then we disagree.”
“Phil and I are still having problems,” she confessed, getting to the point.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I replied. “Talk to me.”
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