As I observed my Sweet Al tripping over his oxygen cord wrapped around his legs, pulling at it and curling it into a circle, then unraveling it, and starting all over again, I thought about life. He struggles with little things, the right shoe on the right foot. Talking into the television remote. No answer. Not hanging up the phone. Everyone panics, “Where are you? The phone is off the hook.” Letting the water run and hiding things only to lose them. This is his world.
Our 66-year wedding anniversary came up April 1. At the time, reciting our marriage vows, we had no idea what we were agreeing to. It didn’t matter; we didn’t see anything but each other. Oh, to be that blind and in love.
There were several who told us we weren’t going to make it. They saw the pitfalls. Love has a way of navigating around the pitfalls. And if these people were alive today, they would wonder how we are still standing and holding hands. I’d tell them, “Love prevailed. God’s love preserved this marriage.”
I really believe there was an outside force, namely God, who saw the bigger picture, and, out of His love for us, He knew we were meant for each other, and the pitfalls were just a positive plus to teach us how to truly love each other.
Our grandson is planning his wedding this summer and he’s so in love he can’t see straight. So is she. I see some pitfalls, but who am I to rob this young couple of the joy of living, and learning how to truly love each other? Loving is a God thing.
My nephew asked me if I would marry into this family again. I said, “No.” My children stared at me. I read their minds. Embarrassed, I gave a sheepish, “Yes.” I understood where he was coming from. His side of the family, Al’s brother and mother, gave him trouble until the day they passed away. They also did the same to me. I used to think my job in the family was to rescue Al. Al couldn’t escape his family, didn’t want to, and I wouldn’t play their game.
Today, I observe that God gave me the greatest gift of all. Al loved me unconditionally. It’s my time to love him the same way. I didn’t rescue Al, but he rescued me. We are in the last chapter of these love vows we took in 1960.
It is love for their daddy which caused our family to come together to take care of him. Al is never left alone. They are serving their dad, protecting our Sweet Al and making sure he knows he’s loved.
My daughter picked up her daddy and took him on a Saturday afternoon date. She drove him to Walmart to look for a pair of blue jeans. She was laughing as she told me how he went in wearing both socks and came out of the store with one.
She said, “I know he had both socks on when we went into the store.” She spent 15 minutes looking all over Walmart. Patting him down, she found his sock inside the pant leg of the opposite leg. She chuckled, “It’s a mystery how it got in the other pant leg. Daddy is the little boy I never had. I’m raising Daddy now.”
I laughed. I told her I knew exactly what she was saying. It seems I’m raising Al, too. “I was waiting to get on Zoom for a morning meeting. He was standing to my side, ‘butt-naked’ waiting for me to help him put on his clothes.”
My daughter gasped. “Oh no. What did you do?”
“Thank the Lord, Zoom wasn’t letting me in.”
My eyes, I’m sure, were the size of saucers. I lurched forward in my chair. My fingers pounded every key. Frantically, I turned off my video and audio. Composed myself. Dressed him. Shook my head, took him to watch “Mountain Men” on television, then continued with my morning meeting.
Final brushstroke: It’s good we didn’t listen to other people’s opinions. Funny how those pitfalls aren’t that important any more. Keeping my Sweet Al safe, fed with a good meal, dressed, with a haircut for church, shoes on the right feet, he is all our family cares about today. Another year has flown by. As I observe life from where I am today, love has prevailed.
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