Romance isn't dead #1

With Valentine's Day here, I found an observation I wrote a decade ago about a memorable evening my husband and I had …

Romance isn’t dead. It’s just been misplaced in that household bin between the dirty and clean laundry.

When that dark-haired, skinny kid and I started dating 24 years ago this fall, little did I know we’d be counting calories and silver hairs nearly a quarter century later. Of course, he knew it. On the day we met, he told his mother he had met the girl he was going to marry. Me, I was just sixteen and had never been kissed and never had any intentions of sprouting gray hair.

Life was simpler in those five years until we bumped into each other at the altar. Romance seemed simpler when we were engaged. It would prove to be much more challenging under mortgage payments, piles of dirty socks and an overly energetic baby boy in the 19 years that would follow.

Once upon a time, when we had a little money in the pockets of our tight jeans, we’d cruise in for curb service at our favorite hot dog stand. There we’d order root beer and French fries and make a meal out of it. We’d feed each other and laugh, and snuggle up close in the big old front seat of his parents’ Ford LTD. That was romance. Maybe because it was so simple. Maybe because it was so new. Or was it because we didn’t know any better. A little of all three.

I can see why so many couples drift apart. Marriage is not easy. At my 20th year class reunion in 1996, I had moved right up near the top among the members who had been married the longest. Other high school sweethearts had loved and divorced. My love, my marriage, my husband, my sanity were still intact.

Some years were more difficult than others. That seventh year was a killer. And after all this time, I can’t remember any advice on this great institution that was imparted by my elders. It was on-the-job training. Still is.

And sometimes you need a refresher course. Maybe it’s when you look at each other and see the changes. Maybe it’s when you look at the calendar and realize you’ve just started the 20th year of marital mayhem and madness. Maybe it’s when you realize your only child will leave for college in two years and all you’ll have is each other to stare at and pick up after. Talk about a reality check …