what fifty years of marriage looks like

Last week I began the story of how we found ourselves with a bonus vacation in Windsor at the end of a harrowing travel day.  And I mentioned The Long Walk, which is a straight paved path that stretches from the doors of Windsor Castle for over two and a half miles.  No bicycles or cars are allowed on it.  To walk it all would take hours, so I had to settle for walking a small portion.  And it calmed my frazzled soul.  

I wish that I could tell you that all went smoothly the next morning as we headed back to Heathrow from Windsor.  In another taxi on our way to the airport we had a momentary scare when the driver’s dispatcher asked to speak to us, informing us that our flight had been cancelled.  Panic!  But he was looking at the flight from the day before.  My heart started beating again. 

Then at the airport another complication.  Remember that our gate agent had said the day before that our bags would automatically be rerouted onto our next day’s flight?  When she learned that we needed them, she called the head of the baggage department, and he said we were supposed to reclaim all our bags anyway. 

However, the airlines didn’t quite get that memo.  When we checked in for our new flight the next day, the computer system wouldn’t take our bags because they had them already checked into the system.  We just started laughing.  Another agent worked diligently to override the glitch.  In an act of rebellion to the tyranny of machines, she tagged our bags anyway, and as she passed us through, she said she really liked the way we laughed with each other. 

So that’s what 50 years together looks like.  We face adversities.  Like The Long Walk of Windsor, we hold the steady straight course as far as it takes us.  We might get discouraged and grumble.  But when it all begins to look absurd, we have to laugh.  What else can you do?  And in the end, we manage to make another person laugh at the absurdities of her job, as well.  Good will resounds and rebounds.  

And we arrived home.  Thanks be to God! 

Love, Liz 

The photos are of Dave and I as newlyweds and again as “old” married folks.  The past is a little fuzzy, as the past often is.