happily ever after
by Valerie Nusbaum
Scenes From A Marriage
I’ve known and observed a lot of couples who have been married for a long time, and it appears to me that the longer a couple is together, the more they begin to think and act alike. That’s certainly true for Randy and me. It’s surprising how often we look at each other and utter the same thought. Sometimes we don’t speak at all. We can tell by a look or a raised eyebrow what the other is thinking. I’m not sure if this is a good thing or a bad thing. Maybe it’s just what happens when two people live together for years.
Some couples complement each other like Yin and Yang. We knew we were perfect for each other the first time we ate broccoli together. I only eat the florets and Randy only eats the stalks. There’s no waste at our house! Thankfully, I haven’t adopted my hubby’s other odd eating habits. Did I ever mention that he puts gravy on macaroni and cheese? Or spaghetti sauce on Brussels sprouts?
Marriage changes people both physically and mentally. We’ve each changed a lot from our single days. Before we got married, Randy had horrible sinus and allergy problems. I, on the other hand, had nary a sniffle. I used to be smart. I’m talking high school valedictorian and 4.0 GPA in college smart. Now, he’s the one making all A’s in graduate school, and I’m the one with the runny nose.
Married couples do things they wouldn’t ordinarily do in order to find common ground.
I’ve been to three NASCAR races. I bought the tickets and took Randy to see The Who because they’re his favorite band. I’ve cooked for hundreds of picnics and dinners, gone to football and baseball games, and clocked a million miles on road trips. Not to mention all the movies and television shows I’ve watched with Randy because he enjoys them. Truthfully, I’ve enjoyed most of it right along with him. I like seeing him have a good time.
Randy has taken me to a lot of concerts, too. I had great times, but he seemed to enjoy them more. He made a friend named Sarge at the Barry Manilow concert and danced with him. He disappeared during the Cher concert, and I saw him on the Jumbotron dancing with the lady who ushered us to our seats. I was eating a giant boat of nachos so I didn’t care. Randy did “The Locomotion” with Little Eva, and sang and danced to “YMCA” with the original Village People. He was moving and grooving along with The Temptations, too, but one of them stopped singing long enough to tell Randy to sit down because he was throwing off their rhythm.
Also under the heading of “Things We Do for Love,” Randy met Richard Simmons. My friend, Roxann Welch, and I were keeping in shape by working out to Richard’s exercise videos (this was back when dinosaurs roamed the earth, ok?), and when we found out that Mr. Simmons was doing a personal appearance at a local mall, we decided to go. Randy went along with us. Richard really seemed to like Randy. I have pictures.
Randy has taken me to see the circus more times than I can count, and he always holds my hand when the clowns come out. I love the aerial acts, but I’m terrified of clowns.
Married people learn to pick their battles. Some things aren’t worth fighting about. I remember a yard sale we held a while back. Randy made some signs advertising it, but he didn’t put our address on them—just arrows pointing in different directions. No one came. I made him go back downtown and put our address on the signs. He did, and a car pulled up right away. He said “Don’t even say it.” I held my tongue, but I gave him the look and lifted my eyebrow.
Even after a lot of years of marriage, spouses can still surprise each other. I was doing the laundry in the basement. I complained to myself—as I do often about so many things—that there just wasn’t enough light for me to see what I was doing. Randy was at his workbench fiddling with something, and I assumed he wasn’t paying attention to me. A couple of days later, I went to the laundry room to do another load, and there, hanging above the washing machine, was a big fluorescent light fixture with a red bow attached to it. Now, a lot of wives might have gotten upset over that, but not me. I was tickled that Randy had not only heard me, but he’d actually listened. And after only eighteen years, I finally had enough light to do the laundry, which, by the way, Randy still claims he can’t sort properly.
Husbands and wives support each other through difficult situations. I don’t know what I would do without Randy. He’s been in many a waiting room while I’ve undergone medical tests and waited for results. Years ago, I had to have an MRI of my brain, and the neurologist put me through a battery of tests. I was scared, and we were both relieved to hear that my tests were normal. The doctor, however, did diagnose Randy with a brain disorder, simply from symptoms I was explaining. Someday, I’ll tell Randy that we were just messing with him. Hey, married couples get their kicks where they can.
Happy St. Patrick’s Day to all of you!
