(My wife and I were married November 7, 1970. Here are some thoughts about our marriage.)
When she pauses, and says, “I don’t know,” she doesn’t like the idea. It ain’t gonna happen.
When she asks the same question again, she didn’t like the answer I gave her the first time.
When she says, “What do you think about this?” it’s a done deal.
When she says, “Could you help me for a minute?” it will be more than a minute and I will do the work.
When she thinks that I’ve had enough candy, she hides it.
When she walks past me without saying anything, I forgot to do something.
When she is upset over something a friend of hers said, she doesn’t want me to fix it.
When she looks at me with puppy dog eyes, she wants me to fix it.
When she gets her coat at a party, I have three minutes to wrap it up and head for the door.
When I get my coat at a party, it will be thirty minutes before we will leave—maybe forty-five.
When I get nine out of ten things on her list done, she will ask me about the tenth thing.
When she asks me if I want her to travel with me, the answer is always yes, even if she wasn’t planning on going in the first place.
Even when I think she is interrogating me, I never doubt that her motive is love.
No matter how much I think she is nagging me, I know it is always because she cares about me.
Her questions about my diet and exercise are about her concern for my health.
Forty-six years of living with me can only be explained by her deep and constant love.