A HALF OF 'WE' IS 'ME'
After fifty years of a mostly happy marriage, interspersed by discontent and disagreement, time well spent and good intent. I'd say it was meant to be. And as we edged toward fifty-three we became each a half of "We."
After stops and starts and new begins, of mistakes and aches and one time sins, after memories stored, vows ignored and then restored, after changing moods and things that intruded on love that sometimes faded but never really died. After lies and sighs and cries and tears and doubts and fears and years and years, we were still together. It appeared we'd scaled the heights, had fights, survived the lows, who knows better than "We" how and why the marriage lasted endlessly,
After the luxuries of fantasies, the victories and defeats and incomplete attempts to satisfy our separate sexual and intellectual needs and greeds, our hesitancies and unfulfilled expectancies, we strived and, finally, my wife, Betty, had two successful pregnancies; two children born and grown and on their own in spite of stress, illness and unwillingness along the way, of pain-filled hours of grief and belief that the powers of our faith in "We" would see us through, "We" held tight and prayed day and night that everything would turn out right. Sometimes it did. sometimes not. But we cried a lot and tried a lot and defied the odds and we won. (How 'bout that, Hon?)
Money woes? There were some. They were overcome by spending less and eating more and counting pennies at the discount store. But even as things got better, we lived by the letter of our rule. "Save for a rainy day and pray the gray clouds go away."
This was the bittersweet life of success and defeat. You'll find our story on every street. In folks you meet. And remember this, my friend. Our lives are all Soap Operas in the end.
But for me, the other half of "We," the end came all too suddenly. Death struck in an instant of a blinking eye, no time to say goodbye. What once was no longer is. But as they say in showbiz. "The must go on." I alone remain, half of what was once a "We," is now just a "Me."
After stops and starts and new begins, of mistakes and aches and one time sins, after memories stored, vows ignored and then restored, after changing moods and things that intruded on love that sometimes faded but never really died. After lies and sighs and cries and tears and doubts and fears and years and years, we were still together. It appeared we'd scaled the heights, had fights, survived the lows, who knows better than "We" how and why the marriage lasted endlessly,
After the luxuries of fantasies, the victories and defeats and incomplete attempts to satisfy our separate sexual and intellectual needs and greeds, our hesitancies and unfulfilled expectancies, we strived and, finally, my wife, Betty, had two successful pregnancies; two children born and grown and on their own in spite of stress, illness and unwillingness along the way, of pain-filled hours of grief and belief that the powers of our faith in "We" would see us through, "We" held tight and prayed day and night that everything would turn out right. Sometimes it did. sometimes not. But we cried a lot and tried a lot and defied the odds and we won. (How 'bout that, Hon?)
Money woes? There were some. They were overcome by spending less and eating more and counting pennies at the discount store. But even as things got better, we lived by the letter of our rule. "Save for a rainy day and pray the gray clouds go away."
This was the bittersweet life of success and defeat. You'll find our story on every street. In folks you meet. And remember this, my friend. Our lives are all Soap Operas in the end.
But for me, the other half of "We," the end came all too suddenly. Death struck in an instant of a blinking eye, no time to say goodbye. What once was no longer is. But as they say in showbiz. "The must go on." I alone remain, half of what was once a "We," is now just a "Me."
posted by Ed Weiland at 11:11 PM
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