Category Archives: Long Marriages

Scent or Smell?

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Have you ever stepped into an elevator with a woman who’s wearing too much perfume? It’s enough to make you step out and head for the stairs. That’s the way Nate wore cologne. His preference was Aramis, a pricey scent introduced in 1965. He was wearing it in 1966 when we met as college seniors and was still wearing it on our wedding day three years later.

I liked Aramis, even lots of it. The problem came when I was expecting baby #1, in 1972. Funny things happen to normal women when they become pregnant, and my hormones birthed a hatred for Aramis. It no longer smelled good; it just smelled. I couldn’t stand to be in the same room with it, which presented a major problem for our marriage.

“Pour it down the drain,” I insisted, but Nate loved his Aramis and didn’t understand my turncoat behavior. By baby #3, I’d done so much complaining, he finally surrendered, and I know why. Desperate to get my way, I’d told him, “If you keep wearing it, I can’t kiss you anymore and risk that stuff rubbing off on me.” That did it.

Trying to remain calm amidst the churning emotions of his pregnant wife, he asked, “So, what cologne can I wear?”

“Old Spice.”

I saw him turn up his nose and tip his head as if to say, “Are you kidding? That’s what our fathers wear!”

But he didn’t say it, and soon a stopper-topped, milk-glass Old Spice bottle appeared in our bathroom. The familiar ship on the front was comforting to me, and the scent was pleasing since it reminded me of… my father.

Nate saved his bottle of Aramis for years, hoping I’d eventually warm up to it again. I left it there under the sink, thinking I might enjoy it after we finished having babies, which took 17 years. In the mean time, he got plenty of kisses while wearing Old Spice. Sadly, though, my distaste for Aramis never went away.

But 2005 was a banner year, because something happened that opened the door to Aramis. Our golden retriever had a mental snap, and though she loved me, attacked me with an intent to kill. Snarling and growling, she bit me repeatedly, tore my skin open and shook me like a captured rabbit. Two days later, admitted to the hospital with a serious infection, I was given “the atomic bomb of antibiotics.” It was a last-ditch effort to save my hand from amputation.

“You’ll probably smell something terrible inside your head for several weeks,” the doctor told me. “It’ll be the medicine. And more than likely it’ll take away your sense of smell. But which would you rather have, a hand or a sense of smell?”

I picked my hand, and the doctor was right about my nose. After those antibiotics I couldn’t smell anymore, not even Nate’s Old Spice. So one day I told him, “Guess what. You can wear Aramis again, because I can’t smell you anymore.”

He immediately got rid of his Old Spice bottle, but rather than resurrect the Aramis, he experimented with other colognes. I bought him a bottle of Brut, thinking Elvis Presley’s choice would make cologne-wearing fun again, but amazingly, he settled on Mennen Aftershave, a mild scent bought at Walgreens for $1.99.

Today at the cottage I found three bottles of his bright green Mennen under the bathroom sink. I opened one to sniff deeply, wondering if I might be able to smell Nate, but nothing came. Since our boys had no interest, I simply poured it all out. As I watched his Mennen swirl down the drain, I realized in a new way what a great love Nate had for me.

It’s the refusal to give in to the whims of a spouse that can one day become the spontaneous combustion of divorce. Nate didn’t want to give up his Aramis, and he held on for three babies trying to convince me. But when he saw I wasn’t going to bend, he did the bending for both of us and put it away. At the time I didn’t appreciate the significance of what he’d done. I probably said something like, “Thank goodness!” or “Finally!”

Today I say, “Shame on me.”

My objection to Aramis was valid, but my mistake was in failing to honor my husband for his willingness to give up what he’d wanted to keep. More and more I’m realizing that much of the reason our marriage worked was because Nate acquiesced to my desires. I wish I would have looked for more ways to give in to him, and oh how I wish I could thank him now… for putting away his Aramis, way back in 1977.

“Keep fervent in your love for one another, because love covers a multitude of sins. Be hospitable to one another without complaint.” (1 Peter 4:8-9)

The Truth about Marriage

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It happened at a bridal shower a decade back. The woman sharing a devotional time thought the bride would benefit from tidbits of wisdom given by long-married women. She’d prepared her talk by asking a dozen married friends to give one sentence of advice to the guest of honor.

When she asked me for my thought, Nate and I were going through a rough patch. I remember saying, “Tell her marriage is life’s great crucible.” She laughed, thinking I was joking, but I wasn’t.

During the bridal shower, she shared the statements about marriage gleaned from the “older women:”

  • “Remember to laugh at yourself.”
  • “Read the Bible and pray together.”
  • “Never criticize your husband in public.”

These were excellent nuggets of wisdom, proven true over years of time. When my crucible statement was shared, the bride laughed, along with everyone else. I laughed, too, not wanting guests to know it originated with me. But even today, from my vantage point as a new widow, I don’t think I’d withdraw my statement.

We’ve all heard preachers say, “God isn’t as interested in our happiness as in our growth.” Scripture backs that up. We also know our greatest spiritual growth occurs during times of trouble. When life is a party, we don’t need help; when we’re crying, we turn to God.

What better way for him to ensure we stay close than to put stressful circumstances into our marriages? I’m not talking about the honeymoon or the newlywed stage, although some couples find they’re in a crucible immediately. But even those who’ve had a good launch come to tough stuff eventually.

I think God had our personal growth in mind when he invented marriage. Two people, usually opposites, come together with a desire to make each other their number one priority, not just for a while but for life. It’s an impossible goal, because with the first argument, priorities wobble.

So, God designs custom-made tests for each couple to coax them into pulling him into the mix. Some are like pop quizzes, short, with easy solutions:

  • “Can’t you put your dirty clothes in the hamper?”
  • “Why don’t you call, if you’ll be late?”
  • “You forgot to write down that check amount!”
  • “Are you ever on time?”

These are irritants, not crucibles. Over time, we learn the benefits of compromising. If we love our partners, we won’t “go to the wall” over these things.

But some God-designed tests truly are crucibles:

  • poverty
  • infertility
  • a retarded child
  • in-law troubles
  • job loss
  • an affair
  • bankruptcy
  • disease
  • a stillborn baby.

Statistics prove that when excruciating tests come, marriage casualties occur as well. So how can a relationship survive if God allows such pain? The only way is to square off with our spouses and say, “We won’t let this pull us apart. Let’s figure out how to pull together instead and pass this test.” Usually the answer involves God.

My husband is gone now, and I’ve been quick to look back and say, “I sure wish I’d done that differently,” or “I definitely failed my test there.” For me, time’s up. Nate and I will be given no more opportunities to pass marriage tests. For other people there are still chances.

wedding silouettes 2

Scripture says the way to succeed at this, right in the middle of the stress, is to ask, “What can I do for you, dear, right now? What would mean the most?” We don’t readily set aside our own suffering to ask those questions, and it isn’t possible without God’s strength. But if we do it, God brings us through the crucibles in tact and stronger because of them. There are other rewards, too: harmony, joy, increased love, better sex, a heart for each other and yes, periods of full-on happiness.

But just like when we watch an airplane approach the runway, we see the lights of the next one in the distance. Husbands and wives need to know that more challenges are on the way. With God as our tutor, the Bible as our study guide and a desire to pass every test, high-quality, long marriages will be the reward.

“Be of the same mind, maintaining the same love, united in spirit, intent on one purpose. Do nothing from selfishness or empty conceit, but with humility of mind regard one another as more important than yourselves. Do not merely look out for your own personal interests, but also for the interests of others.” (Philippians 2:2-4)

What’s missing?

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So far, I’ve had seventeen years as a child, four years as a college student, three years as a working single, forty years as a married woman and one month as a widow. The lion’s share of my life has been spent thinking like a wife, and I know with certainty one month isn’t long enough to think single again.

In answering people’s questions, I’m still using “we” instead of “I”, even though the other half of my “we” is gone. Saying “I” reminds me of a line from an old song, “One is the loneliest number that you’ll ever do.” Back when I was single, I didn’t feel lonely at all, but having been a couple for so long, suddenly I feel it.

Today I sent an anniversary card to some dear friends. Despite our anniversary coming and going with only half of us here, it wasn’t difficult to celebrate with another couple still in tact. The hard part came when I signed the card. The words, “Love, Margaret and Nate” rolled right out of my pen before I could stop them. It’s hard to remember to sign from just me.

But the worst adjustment is learning to talk about Nate in the past tense. I catch myself saying, “Nate loves holiday ties,” then needing to correct myself. “Nate loved holiday ties.” It’s almost not worth saying at all.

Other things must change, too. When my cousin Calvin was here at the time of the funeral, he gently reminded me that the categories of our marriage Nate used to handle will now have to be handled by me. For instance, Nate always made the coffee, put salt in the softener, arranged the vacations and handled insurance policies. My cousin told me, “If you can’t do what Nate used to do, ask someone to help you, so those things aren’t left undone. But you can do a lot of it yourself.” The problem comes in even noticing what needs doing when you haven’t done those things for forty years.

While Calvin was here, we left the house for several hours and returned to find seven big candles still burning on the mantle. Nate would never have stepped out the door without first blowing them out, but I didn’t even notice.

Calvin also said, “I know Nate made sure the house was locked up each night. Are you doing that?”

It hadn’t occurred to me. Actually, the house hadn’t been locked for two months. My cousin was right. I had to wonder what else was undone because of Nate’s absence. I remembered back to Thanksgiving and realized I’d invited all the same people as always but neglected to give anyone an arrival time. Nate had always done that with phone calls, touching base with each one ahead of time. Our guests ended up calling and texting me that morning asking, “What time is dinner?”

The day after Thanksgiving it occurred to me we hadn’t talked to the far-away relatives we usually call on each holiday, and of course the reason was that Nate always did the phoning. I might take a turn on each call, but he was the one who remembered to initiate them.

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Nate also was my news informant. He read four newspapers every day: The Chicago Tribune, The Daily Herald, The Wall Street Journal and The New York Times. He gave me the condensed version, wanting to talk current events. Since Nate’s death, I’ve been woefully uninformed. We don’t have television at the cottage and can’t get a clear radio signal, so I haven’t seen or heard a newscast in weeks. This was never a problem, with Nate keeping me up to date.

These are the little surprises of widowhood. Piled one on top of another, they make for a sad day. Solved one at a time, they bring hope.

“For the Lord grants wisdom! He grants a treasure of common sense to the honest. For wisdom will enter your heart, and knowledge will fill you with joy. Wise choices will watch over you. Understanding will keep you safe.” (Proverbs 2:6,7,10-11)