39 Years and Counting

This week my hubby and I noted our 39th anniversary. 

1975 - Engagement year

As it approached, people asked, "Are you going to do anything special?  What are you going to do?"

The hubs and I discussed it as well.  We decided what we wanted to 'do' was nothing.

We 'do' a lot of stuff already.  He works ten-hour days as a manager; I'm a caretaker for my folks. We have a big house we're always trying to repair, or clean.  We have two cars that need maintenance.  We mow and run errands and take my folks to doctor appointments.  Most nights, we doze off watching the news.  Coming up with something else to 'do' just wasn't appealing.

We decided we'd go get a couple of soft serve ice cream cones and call it a day.

Then, Dad got sick, and things changed.  I took him for his first antibiotic infusion, and the hubs went to bed.  It was fine.  The next day my husband helped my dad take a shower, and then our daughter and I took the folks to Mass.  The hubs came home from the drug store with ten bottles of seltzer water for me (my choice of fluid these days - .99 a bottle), and I made him a pan of brownies.  We gave each other a kiss before I headed out the door to Dad's second infusion appointment.  It was a perfect anniversary weekend.  We didn't have to dress up, or overspend, or even stay awake.

We're moved with the Air Force eight times and raised three children (and a dog.)  We've invested in two weddings and buried four siblings.  We've 'done' a lot already.  In his down time, the hubs plays Angry Birds; in my 'free' time, I write.  And we're content with that.

At the 39-year mark, it's wonderful to have a guy who helps my dad bathe and brings me bottled water.  I pack his lunches and line-dry his L.L. Bean shirts to keep them crisp. These are the things we 'do.'

And it's really enough. 

Happy anniversary, babe.