My sister Pam is three years younger than I am, which does not mean nearly as much today as it did when we were kids. She was the typical pesky little sister, the one who skillfully removed the peanut from a peanut M & M, filled the cavity with mustard, and gave it to me with a smile.
When we played paper dolls, she dressed her doll in a wedding dress for every event. When the dolls went to the movies, Pam’s doll wore her wedding dress. When they went shopping, to the beauty salon, to school and even to church, that doll was dressed in her wedding dress. It exasperated me to no end! “You can’t dress your doll in a wedding dress to go to the beach!” I yelled. “Yes, I can,” she protested. “It is her prettiest dress and she wears it every day.” I wish with all my might that today I could show up at Pam’s front door for some planned outing wearing my wedding dress! Two obstacles prevent me from doing that: (1) She lives 400 miles away. (2) I can’t squeeze myself into that tiny, size 7 dress!
I love my sister Pam. We have a relationship that goes back literally forever, as we are two branches that sprang from the same root. I also have another friend named Pam. When I was a young woman, new to this area and scared to death of driving in Indianapolis, she and I went to see Gone with the Wind at a theater on the south side. I drove, though I was petrified behind the wheel. All went well, until we came out of the theater when the movie was over and discovered that I had locked my keys inside the car, left the headlights on so the battery was dead and it was raining like crazy. I remember that Pam looked at me, laughed and said, “Well . . . .” I love the way she still responds in that same way to frustrating situations today.
Today, Friday, May 16, 2014, my husband and I mark our 41st wedding anniversary. Every day this week he has said to me, “I want to wish you a happy anniversary today because I’m afraid I’ll forget on Friday.” This morning when I woke up I looked over at his sleeping form and took advantage of the opportunity to one-up him. “Happy anniversary,” I whispered.
He turned, removed his CPAP sleeping mask, rubbed his eyes and said, with all the romance he could muster, “Of all the people in the world, you’re still the one I would choose to spend 41 years with.”
I responded, “And you’re still the one with whom I would choose to spend 41 years.”
“You and your sick obsession with grammar!” he muttered, rolling over to go back to sleep.
Dan and I have been through many highs and lows in our marriage. Together we have been poor and not so poor, bought homes and cars, raised children, taken trips, buried parents, and navigated day-to-day life. All of those things have been important, but one component of the glue that holds us together is reflected in short, playful conversations like the one we had this morning. We “get” each other. Most of the time we even like each other.
The relationships that I have with my husband, family and friends mean the world to me; they are worth fighting for. (You fellow grammarians will just have to make peace with that last sentence.) God Himself declared that it is not good for one to be alone. Nurture the healthy relationships that you have. Celebrate the special people in your life.