Through Health and Sickness, For Richer and Poorer

Artist’s Quote: “It was character that got us out of bed, commitment that moved us into action, and discipline that enabled us to follow through.” Zig Ziglar

The first of April marks our fifty-third anniversary of wedded bliss. April Fools Day, 1960 seemed like a good day to get married. We were young, foolish and in love, we didn’t care what day it was, we were ready for the big plunge.

Yes, we plunged into deep waters and neither of us knew how to swim. We didn’t think to take a life jacket with us. Why? Because we thought we could live on love.  We didn’t know about sharks or how deep the water could be. Maybe it was a good thing.

Al’s mother reminded me many times over the years that Al carried me on a silver platter and he was too good to me. I wasn’t complaining. I always chalked it up to the idea that he was paying more attention to me than to her. Bless her soul. I guess I could have been nicer to her.

In a sentimental moment, I said to our daughter, “I think your Dad and I are going to renew our vows. We will do it over next Christmas vacation when everyone is here.”

She said, “Why? I don’t get it.”

I was taken back by what she said. I didn’t have a good enough reason to explain to her, so I said, “Well, Bob and Carolyn are going to renew their vows and I thought it would be a special thing.”

“You’re married, why do people think they need to do it again?”

“I don’t know. Maybe, I’m getting a little sentimental. I thought we should while I’m amicable and your Dad still remembers.”

Al popped up, “Maybe, I don’t want to do it again.”

I was dumbfounded, “Of course, you want to. Haven’t I made your life exciting and fun?”

I turned my attention back to our daughter. “I was eighteen and I didn’t know what I was doing.”

“Apparently, it is working.”

“A lot of water has run under this bridge.”

And she replied, “And the bridge is still holding.”

“The reason I thought it would be nice to renew our vows, the first time it was all fun and games and a party.”

“Well, if you want to have a party,” she said, “Let’s have one and forget about the preacher.”

Wow! That idea was shot in the head. Maybe, I need to re-visit my initial thought. I’m going to have to table the idea for a while until I have a good reason. Maybe our daughter is right, we must be doing something right, the bridge is still holding. Is renewing our vows going to make any difference? I don’t think so. Life keeps flowing by.

The day after that conversation, Al’s truck was in the garage and he needed to borrow my car. No problem, everything we have belongs to both of us.

Right! But the next time I drove the car, and this is what I found: the radio was blasting, Al had thrown the steering wheel up, pushed the seat back, adjusted the mirror, and fiddled with all the buttons.

I drove to town with the ECT Power button on, and I looked everywhere to turn that button off. I told my daughter, “Your Dad messes with everything in the car. He’s going to have to learn to put things back if he’s going to drive MY car.”

I got home from town and said to Al, “Don’t mess with those buttons again or you can’t drive MY car.”

He was dumbfounded. “Well, everything belongs to both of us. It’s my car, too.”

So here we go, more water running under the bridge. I’m curious, what makes the difference when you renew your vows again? Do you change, do you think differently? No longer do you get upset when the radio is blasting in the car and you have to adjust the seat? I’m just asking. I guess there won’t be any renewed wedding vows for Al and I for a while. I don’t have a good enough reason. After all these years, we still haven’t figured it out.

Final Brushstroke! We will file our joint income tax, and we will pay our property taxes together. We will continue doing what we have been doing for the past fifty-three years. We will be there for each other, love each other through sickness and health, for richer and poorer, until death do we part, BUT, don’t mess with the buttons on MY car.

Reader’s Comments: All the past Artist’s Lane Articles are now compiled in a book, titled “Living on the Front Page”. Have fun reliving all those crazy things that happened in Pagosa.  Go to http://www.bettyjslade.com

We are Living it in the Newspaper

My sweet Al said, “Sit down and watch Duck Dynasty with me.”

I asked, “Why? I’m living Duck Dynasty in my own home.”

Our family came home for the holidays. We always expect crazy things to happen, this year was no exception. With the weather hitting -20 degrees, we woke up to frozen pipes with no water. We all said, “Of course, it always happens.”

The phone was dead for five days. We waited for the telephone company to fix it. Come to find out, the phone had been unplugged from the wall. No one bothered to check it out.

Snow came on Christmas Eve. We decided since we had thirteen people in the house, not to go to the Church Service, we would have our own services. It took a mastermind to quiet the group down. We decided we needed a leader to take authority over the evening. That seemed to work. We read the Christmas story. I wanted to reflect on it. My daughter said I was getting too deep, and it was time to move on to more memorable moments. I guess Baby Jesus will understand.

Each shared their most special Christmas. I was amazed how many things the kids remembered over the years and how important they had become. We were in the midst of establishing traditions and making memories, whether we thought we were, or not.

We have one grandson, who is a member of the wrestling team. His coach reminded him to stay in shape over the holidays. He was constantly picking up the women in the family, throwing them over his shoulder, running with them down the hall, and throwing them on the bed. The women in our family are not dainty little things. I believe he had a good workout, the coach would be proud. Right now he stands at 11 wins, 1 loss. We are hoping for State, we’ve got a good shot.

Our son lit the Wolf Stove. There was a big bang of gas and fire. He said, “It’s a good thing I shave my head.”

I stared at him with his singed eyebrows and blackened face. I rolled my eyes and said, “You’re right.”

I told Allison, one of our daughter, “That stove never worked right, but I thought I had to own a Wolf Stove because David’s fourth wife, Dana, had one. We paid a fortune for it. I’d never do that again.

She said, “Dana has moved on and out of the family; and you still have your Wolf Stove.”

I said, “You’re right. I guess you can get rid of a husband, but you’ll live with a stove or old sofa for the rest of your life.”

Then there is our youngest daughter who loves to bake. Before the holidays, she baked 40 loaves of different kinds of bread. Each time she baked, she gave My Sweet Al and I one loaf. We asked for more, but she said they were for the family during the holidays. She hid them in the freezer.

During the holidays, every morning, she had loaves of banana nut, cranberry, lemon poppy seed, nutty, and Chocolate zucchini with nuts laid out for the family. Our oldest daughter said she could hardly wait every morning to see what the Bread Fairy was going to bring. We were never disappointed.

Every member of the family brings something different to the mix. We have all learned to endure, enjoy, and laugh at each other. It seems to work for us.

For New Years Eve, we pulled out all the old family movies. We laughed at all the fun we have had over the years, with skits and games, and taking the canoe down the river. It brought back many wonderful memories. As crazy as our family is, we are still family, and we wouldn’t change anything.

Everyone has left and it’s back to Al and I. I’ve been shoveling out and cleaning up the mess. It’s time to take down the Christmas decorations, and get back to normal. Al has taken back the remote and his brown chair. I’ve taken back my computer and kitchen. It sure is quiet around here.

Final Brushstroke! Duck Dynasty has nothing on us. They are living their reality on television, and we are living our reality in the newspaper. All is good.

Artist Quote! “Without leaps of imagination, or dreaming, we lose the excitement of possibilities. Dreaming, after all, is a form of planning.” Gloria Steinem, Writer and Journalist. 

Remind Me to Laugh When I Can't

This article has been rumbling deep in my spirit for a long time.  When I came around the bend at the Court House and looked up at the broken clock, I knew it was time to write this article.

I’ve looked at that clock a hundred times over the years as I made the bend in downtown Pagosa. I have always checked my time and set my pace, and I depended on it. The clock is still there for everyone to see, but it doesn’t work like it used to.

Today, I laugh at things, but there will be a day when I might be crying about them. When that day comes, remind me to laugh when I can’t.

A few years ago, we saw one of our older dear friends who used to be a pillar in this community. We counted on him to uphold the law. He was strong and fit and was from the old school, he knew how to work and thought everyone else should know how to, also. He was at the football game. When the game was over, he asks us if we knew where he lived? We told him, “Yes.” Then our son-in-law directed him how to get home.

I told our son-in-law later, we should have insisted on taken him home. One of us could have followed in our vehicle. We need to remember that if it ever happens again. Even when people resist in their pride, we must see what they struggle with. If it ever happens to us, I am counting on the good people in Pagosa to help us out.

When I heard about the young son of one of our friends passing away a few days before Christmas, I was heartsick for them and I still am. I can’t imagine what they are feeling or going through. I immediately started praying for them. Their son lived a good witness and a good life. There is no way we can help the family’s grief, but we can pray and be there with a kind word.

When our neighbor, who was a strong, independent man became sick, his family hid the keys to the car. He was a danger to himself. I remember when they told me how angry he became because they took the keys from him.

I thought to myself then, This man was a man who took charge, he gave the orders. He was a colonel in the service. He was a proud man. He doesn’t know how to be helpless. No wonder he was angry.

A couple of years ago, Al was stuck in the road, and a neighbor honked impatiently at him. She yelled in anger, “Al Slade, Go home where you belong.”

When I heard it, I was sad and sick in inside. It broke my heart that she would talk that way to My Sweet Al. I told our children later, “She is young and independent. She hasn’t lived life yet. There will be a day…”

My Sweet Al said he had a dream, he was lost and he didn’t know how to get home.  He said, “It was the scariest thing I’ve ever felt.”

I told him, “You’ve got to know that you have good people around you, and we won’t let anything happen to you. You’ve got to trust us that we will take care of you.

So, Al and I, along with our youngest daughter went to the high school for one of the sporting events. Al missed a couple of turns to get there and we reminded him to turn here and there. When we arrived, we got out and I said to him sweetly, “Honey, do you have the keys?”

He quipped back, “I drove here. Of course I have the keys, why would you ask me that?”

I said to him, “If you are going to lose your mind, you can’t be angry about it.” I looked at our daughter and we chuckled.

Al had a comeback. “You’re the one that is making me lose my mind. You’re driving me nuttier than a fruit cake.”

I laughed and said, “Of course, I’m going to get the blame for that one, too.”

Then the three of us laughed and walked into the high school as if nothing happened.

A week ago, a car stopped abruptly in front of me, and I ran off the side of the road on Highway 160. A family in an old truck stopped to help, and then the sheriff stopped. The people in the truck wanted to know what they could do to help. The sheriff gave me a ride to where I was going.

I made idle chitchat with him as he drove, I said, “There are good people in this town, just like the people in the truck.”

He said, “And some bad ones, too.”

“I guess it’s all about the circle of people you run in.”

My son-in-law and Al went back to pull out the car. Al said, people were honking and yelling as they pulled the car out of the snow bank. Apparently they were blocking the road and the people were in a hurry to get somewhere and too busy to wait.

Its kind of like that old clock on the courthouse wall, it’s been then since I can remember and I’ve always counted on it being there. It isn’t functioning like it used to and is just taking up space. Did someone forget to wind it? Is everyone too busy to fix it? Or, maybe no one notices it anymore and no one cares.

I care. Every time I drive through downtown Pagosa, I still look up to check the time, knowing the hands are not moving, but wishing it was still going. Maybe, it’s like some of us who have been around for a long time, we are still here, but we aren’t moving like we used to and others think we are taking up space.

Final Brushstroke! I love this town and the people in this town. We all struggle in those hard places, and some hurt so deeply we can’t help them. Some of us are still standing, but we aren’t functioning like we used to. No one is exempt from life. Remind me to keep laughing when I can’t.

The Artist’s Quote: “Among the things you can give and still keep are your word, a smile, and a grateful heart.” Zig Ziglar, Author and Speaker