In entertainment news (do those two words go together?) I read that Danny DeVito and his wife of 30 years, Rhea Perlman, are separating; it made me wonder what sabotaged such a long run.
After thirty years, did the pile of annoying habits one tolerates for 30 years just tip it all over? The dirty socks, the lights left on, the whisker shavings, the forgetfulness, the things that miss the garbage can and what they tripped over one too many times? Was it tardiness or tidiness or the waning of, or the “wanting to” that led to this? Was it his tone of voice or hers or was it looking (him at her and her at him) at 67 and 64 and not liking the un-photo-shopped truth about each other?
Did they hold each other at arms length more than holding hands? Were the kids the glue rather than the added feature? Did acting become acting out a real life? Or was it an intruder?
People magazine will be sure to let us know; in the meantime, it’s our 24th anniversary, Michael’s and mine.
Twenty-four years ago I told Michael I would love him forever, be committed to him always, and have eyes for none other. I said I would encourage him, be by his side through thick and thin and be faithful to that vow no matter what life threw at us; so simple at the start of year one. Mike had his tux on and I had my dress and we were going to Honolulu that night; pretty easy to say those words just then. We came back to gifts and a new home, a double-income and not a single argument between us; no wear-and tear.
A marriage just off the starting line is pretty awesome, but give it time: year 24 is not like year 1. Not only have you been around the block, you have driven far and away with one another to a completely different place.
Think about living with someone every single day, every day, every day with less and less and less space between you. You breathe each others air, read each others minds and constantly adjust to match each others pace and pulse. There are days you dance and days you wrestle but you are bound by your promise to do so and to not…give…up.
I can’t imagine giving up on when it has taken 24 years to get here and now there isn’t another single human soul who knows me as well as he does.
When something is around 24 it finds its own style, actually it reminds me of Mike’s car (“Mid-life-crisis #3” as I call it). So Corvettes come and go but around age 25, without modifications, it becomes a collector’s item. There are newer, faster, more high-tech vehicles; but being old and being from another era is what gives it it’s appeal, it’s style, it’s status. People wonder how it made it. At 24 years of marriage, how have we made it? We have found a style of living together with joy and lots of stubborn commitment, more than a little prayer and personal reflection, talking, talking talking, and then more talking; and what a shame it would be to not make it further…to separate something that has taken such care to put together.
Now more than ever we need to buckle up and not let any space come between us. We must age before each others open eyes; we must continue to see each other and love and forgive each other for it. We must pray for one another and remember to practice Christ’s love first to one another. We must stop at the same time and tie each others shoes, drink from the same cup, find where we want to go on the map, and help each other get there.
This has been 24 years of that and we are only one year away from collector’s plates.
Mike: I will be with you until death gets in the way.
Happy Anniversary: I love you T.N.T.
— Trees
p.s. Inside ICBC joke, but applicable all the same, “And you can’t just change your mind.” (wink)
OneBrownLeaf 
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