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Posts Tagged ‘Marriage’

 

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This was another wedding yesterday, May 19, 2018.

It was the same day as the actual Royal Wedding at Windsor of Prince Harry to Meghan Markle, but this event was in Georgetown, District of Columbia, U.S.A.

And it was the almost royal wedding of our little friend, Suzanne (half English) to the enormous love of her life, sweet Michael.  Suzanne is a grownup now of course, but we met her when she was born.

Her Mom is from England (of the sweet, elegant, but lots of fun variety) and her Dad was an all American boy who spread his delightful brand of happiness all the way across the ocean and back to our house in rural Virginia.

The wedding was spine-tingling and tear provoking, just the way a true-love marriage should be.

And there she was – the most radiant beautiful bride!

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Suzanne’s Mom walked her down the aisle because unfortunately, her Dad had passed away. How Terry would have loved to see Suzanne find such happiness, and to have the ceremony there in his favorite church!

One giggling moment was when Michael tried to put the wedding ring on the bride’s right hand!  That makes him “ours” for sure and something to share laughter about in later years.

No, I did not get to see the big royal wedding at Windsor, but this more than special occasion was a deeply meaningful, exceedingly joyful, Almost Royal Wedding that may have been was even better!

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A-compromise-is-an-agreement-whereby-both-parties-get-what-neither-of-them-wanted (1)

Life is a compromise.

Like marriage.

Especially marriage.

I may be an expert on that.

  • What should we have for dinner when I love cheese and my husband hates it?

Compromise:  I do not cook with cheese, except for myself or if I am craving Mac n’ Cheese, we eat out.

  • How warm or cool shall we set the thermostat for our temperature comfort levels?

Compromise:  It’s always a little too warm for me in here, but a little too cool for him.

  • To avoid being deemed a “back seat driver”, how quiet should I be as a passenger in the car when I know he’s about to make a wrong turn?

Compromise:  I make little noises and white knuckle the hand grip.  I think he sees all that with his great peripheral vision.  If none of that works, I gasp out loud.

  •  What movie should we watch when he loves spy thrillers and I love romantic drama?

Compromise:  We have separate viewing rooms and meet between films.

Daily Prompt: Compromise

 

 

 

 

 

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I have a friend.

She has been my friend forever.

I can hardly believe that myself, but it is true.

We grew up playing paperdolls, hopscotch, riding bikes, trying on her big sister’s clothes.

We grew up “spending the night”, talking until 2AM about boys and dreams.

We grew up writing letters with real pens on paper and sent with stamps by snail mail.

We grew up, got married and had children.

And we grew up sharing – always sharing – all the joys and problems of life, love, and parenthood.

And the greatest thing is, we grew up always laughing.

And we are still growing up!  And sharing – always sharing – all the joys and problems of life, love and aging.

She is my Oldest Best Friend Forever and her name is Kit.

She just sent me this card and I will cherish it –  forever.

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Growing old can be fun.  At least that’s what my oldest friend, Kit, says.

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Photographer Unknown

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I wish I had taken their picture.

I went to visit old friends who have been married  for 72 years.

He is 98 , looks 65 and is still a community volunteer!

Still driving her around town too.

He proudly says he takes no prescription medications- only Vitamin C, Vitamin E, and baby aspirin.

Imagine?

She is 92 and beautiful – elegantly coiffed with painted nails, gorgeous clothes, and a smile that transforms her face to youth.

They are both beautiful.

I love talking to them, or rather, just listening to their stories of a lifetime together.

Oh, there are the negatives like lost hearing, balance and reading ability.

But they both offer this advice:

“Do not dwell on  the things you cannot do.  Be grateful for  the things you can.”

And they are truly my inspiration.

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Weekly Photo Challenge:  Half and Half

Wedding Rings 1

Yesterday I was doing something with my left hand that caused two fingers to cramp.

Not knowing what else to do, I began to shake that hand.

And my wedding ring flew off and wound up clear across the room!

I noticed my ring finger was miraculously slim.  It was evidently too skinny to hang onto the wedding ring.

WHICH BRINGS ME TO A TALE OF TWO RINGS!

Once upon a time there was a couple who thought they were in love.

They planned to marry and purchased two wedding rings – a little one for her and a bigger one for him.

Time went on but they did not marry.   I guess they were never meant for each other.

But there was another couple who planned to marry.

They bought the two almost-used wedding rings from the first couple.

They got two rings for $25.00.  What a DEAL huh?

DOR AND BILL WERE THAT SECOND COUPLE.

Wedding Day Note: Dor's Dad Not Happy

Wedding Day
Note: Dor’s Dad Not Happy

Dor’s Dad objected to the union and predicted “the bum” (Bill) would divorce Dor as soon as he graduated from college.

Nevertheless, they were married by a Justice of the Peace, and Bill said that thing about, “With this ring I thee wed.”

And they agreed to share all their worldly goods,

which of course, were nil.

And even though Bill never wore his Big Ring, Dor wore her Little Ring forever;

well, for years and years and years anyway.

Half of $25 is $12.50 (the cost of Dor’s wedding ring).  What a DEAL huh?

I am very good at math.

But, one day when Dor was a grandparent and still married to the same “bum”, her finger began to ache.

Arthritis maybe?  Naw.

Why would arthritis hit only one finger?

And why just the ring finger?

Bill had graduated from college and was long retired from work so it wasn’t Dor’s father’s  curse coming back to haunt them.

Dor finally noticed her aching finger was miraculously FAT!

Before you condemn Dor as a weight gaining sloth, please remember the time lapse.

It is likely that a child bride’s finger might grow bigger over time.

FINGER WEIGHT PROBABLY FLUCTUATES.

But Dor’s ring  was cutting off circulation, was leaving a deeply imbedded ringlike scar, and the only way to get the ring off was with soap and water!

So Dor took Bill’s original Big $12.50 ring to a jeweler where it was then reduced in size to fit an aging, slightly overweight bride.

At least it was a half of the original pair right?

And that is the happy ending (or beginning) of the Tale of Two Rings.

The groom’s ring is the one that flew off Dor’s finger and wound up clear across the room!

DOES THAT MEAN DOR LOST WEIGHT?

Y  E  S  S  S  S  S  S!!!

Well, maybe a little.

And Dor now has two rings that make a whole marriage.

There is the BIG ring that fits a fat finger

And the LITTLE ring that fits a slim finger.

And this marriage was meant to last forever.

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On the Road Again

On the Road Again

My friend, Nancy, of Not Quite Old, just wrote another of her hilarious posts.  This one was about sacrificing  her own time to do something with her husband; something he loves.  If you haven’t already found her blog I personally guarantee it will make you laugh out loud.

Anyway, Nancy was the inspiration to relate my own huge sacrifice, which I make at least once a year for the sake of marital bliss (and for stocking up on spousal IOU’s).

What is this Supreme Sacrifice?

 Getting in a car with Bill when the destination route is untried and unfamiliar.

Together we set off to explore uncharted highways and byways, but even an unexplored side street will qualify.

“What fun,” you say, “you must have an adventuresome marriage!”

Well, maybe not.

I think Bill thinks he wants to explore new places and discover new destinations and see the world.   And he thinks he will be able to accomplish this in our car.   And  he thinks he will know how to get wherever he is going.  “No problem Babe.  It will be fun!”  However, I know he is practicing the art of self deception and dragging me along with him down the rabbit hole.

Hope Springs 

We begin each journey with good intentions and hearts filled with good cheer and high hopes for a happy outcome.  After many years of marriage, however, I do have some mild concerns and downright jitters.

Sometimes I even break out in a rash.

My hero, Bill, is always the driver.  He is a wonderful driver.

There is only one problem though.

My hero gets LOST! 

And he does not get lost like normal heroes get lost. 

Sometimes he can actually see where he is going, but he still can’t get there. 

Other times, he is lost in a parking lot and goes around in circles, grumbling all the way.

He is even lost on routes once taken, like would you believe yesterday?

He inevitably overshoots turnoffs and winds up driving quite out of the way to make U-turns.

The grumbling escalates and he eventually resorts to profanity to help him find his way. (Note: this means I am failing in my assigned duties to navigate).

To prevent the escalation of frustration, I say yell, “NO, TURN LEFT!”

but he inevitably turns Right.

Then I say yell, “NO, STAY IN THIS LANE,”

but he is drifting onto an off ramp and hollering,

“SH–!&$%Xx!@o!”

Ask directions?   Ha!

Maps?  Ha! Ha!

“Don’t you have a GPS system or a smart phone?” you ask.

Of course we have a GPS system and it helps occasionally with astute concentration on my part. And we even have a smart phone!  But Bill is still always LOST, especially if I get complacent and file a nail or read something, or “heaven forbid” relax, even for a second.  Because when I look up, we are miraculously in unintended territory, and there are frustrated cries from the driver’s seat.

The Navigator

They say phobias begin when you are young.  When I was a girl and we went on family trips, my Dad appointed me The Navigator.  This great honor created anxiety in the effort to please.

Now, when entering a car with Bill, I am once again transformed into the Travel Leader, the Spirit Guide, the Person in Charge – ugghh – The Navigator!  Once again, I must get us where we are going and return us to familiar roads leading home, or back to the motel, or wherever it is we can disembark and feel safe again.

This is my durned duty.

And this is my ultimate sacrifice for marital bliss.

The enormity of the responsibility leaves  imagined heart palpitations, indigestion, bouts of worry, fear, guilt (if I can’t find the way), and finally exhaustion.  Definition of a phobia?  You bet.  I am terrified of getting lost!

Sometimes I think Bill notices the rash or if I am about to faint, because he agreed we should always take the same road to town, the same streets while there, and the same road back.  People wonder why we need directions to their homes or places of business in such a small town.  It’s because we are one-road-in-one-road-out folks.  Familiarity breeds contentment.

Well, not always.

There are vacations – fun filled adventures via automobile.  Our next trip is in the fall to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina, where there are really only two main roads and if you go down a side street, you wind up in the ocean.  Chances are good for a peaceful trip too, because we have been there – in the ocean – before.

Can anyone recommend a non-drowsy tranquilizer for a self-sacrificing Reluctant Navigator?

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