Decade By Decade

A while ago, my husband and I drove up the road and traveled back a few decades in time. We spent the weekend at our college campus, the place where we met and fell in love.

Whenever I go back there, I’m always searching for ghosts. I’m so hopeful of seeing people around every corner from 40-plus years ago. So far, no luck; but I always rekindle many sweet memories from my life as a college student.

I told a friend that when I started school there I felt like I was leaving a black-and-white world and entering into a wonderful new Technicolor one. She said, “You were Dorothy!” I guess I was.

When we met, Steve and I were in our early 20s. Like most young couples we had a whole lot to learn about life, about ourselves, about one another and about marriage.

I saw an item recently that looked at married couples and examined their differences as couples in their 50s versus couples in their 60s. It seems that as we leave our 50s and head into our 60s together, there is a little less self, a little less ego.

That theory certainly resonated with me as I thought about how Steve and I have changed — decade by decade — during our married lives.

One of my favorite things to do as a staff writer for The Message was to cover the annual Golden Jubilee Celebration Mass. It’s sponsored by Catholic Charities for couples who are married 50 years or longer, and so it’s attended by couples who are in their 70s and 80s.

I always sat in the back of the church and watched as the jubilarians arrived. What I began to notice over the years was the tenderness that they showed to one another. I sensed that they were happy simply because their spouses were still with them. They seemed content because they were still together.

It was always wonderful to sit and listen as both Bishop Emeritus Gerald A. Gettelfinger and Bishop Charles C. Thompson thanked these inspiring couples for the example that they set, both for their families and for the larger community.

One year, a woman sat next to me and told me her story. Her husband was still working in the fields, and couldn’t get away that afternoon. She came by herself, and listened to the affirmation that her life and her marriage were important.

Old age doesn’t seem to be for the weak. There are aches and pains, and new difficulties. It’s hard, but the words of the poet Robert Browning are a comfort:

Grow old along with me!

The best is yet to be,

The last of life, for which the first was made.

Our times are in His hand

Who saith “A whole I planned,

Youth shows but half; trust God: see all, nor be afraid!”