Last Friday, my parents celebrated their 38th wedding anniversary. It’s an impressive feat, especially given the fact that they had known each other just six weeks on the day they got married. My dad was 21 and my mom had just turned 23 six days before. After the wedding, they drove from San Francisco to Virginia, getting to know the other person’s quirks and habits, held together by a marriage license and a two-door Karmann Ghia. There were times in the first year (as well as some of the years between now and then) when they weren’t sure that it would work and that the commitments that held them together wouldn’t be enough, but somehow they always managed to make it work.
Recently they were at a party, where the majority of people in attendance were closer to my age than theirs. Someone turned to my mom and asked her how they had done it for so long. She thought for a minute and said, “You have to just keep working at it. Oh, and make sure to take some separate vacations.” Sounds like good advice!