Yesterday felt heavy--heavy with rain, heavy with contemplation, and heavy with the sense of responsibility and connection that seems to be the order of the day at this age and stage in life. Watching the slide show synapses of our Uncle's life, it seems odd that 94 years and almost an entire century can click by in just under five minutes. We were sitting directly across the paneled third-floor room of the Mason's lodge from my great-Aunt (88 years old herself) when the older gentleman giving the eulogy shared that they had just celebrated their 70th wedding anniversary last year.
Seventy years is a long time--and yet, in some ways, it isn't. It seems dramatic when taken as a chunk of years longer than many people live--but it is really just a conglomeration of ordinary days and ordinary tasks: packed lunches, drives to work, a load of laundry, a baseball game, fishing trips, a glass of iced tea, a warm cookie...
People have a tendency to think of the work, discipline and accomplishment of a 70-year marriage or a 90-year life and yet, I cannot help but imagine that the key to such longevity is a fair amount of fun and play too. I think that it is the big slice of pie and hot coffee, telling stories with grandchildren on a mosquito-infested patio in August, catching up with friends over a pizza or a walk along the river. In the course of a year, I know that there will be some frigid days, blustery winds and snow flurries, but they are temporary challenges to make the best of--on the other side of March will be the blooming lilac bushes, warm days and sweet-scent of apple blossoms. It doesn't have to always be about the work and the struggle.
Note: This photo shows the spot in our yard where Teri and I are planning to share our vows...
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