Aged Woman's Wisdom

The front door was thrown wide open so it would slam harder as Gil, a husband, left the house. “I hate you!”, said Wendy, Gil’s wife. She threw his favorite coffee cup against the wall. The shattering of the ceramic coffee cup and the splattering coffee brought Wendy back to her senses. She wished she hadn’t thrown it. Now she had a mess to clean up.

Who can I vent to? thought Wendy. She picked up her car keys and purse to go to her great-grandmother’s house, leaving the mess behind.

At her great grandmother's house, Twila, answered the door with open arms to give and receive a hug.

“I’m glad to see you. But why are you here? I usually only see you at reunions.”

Wendy burst into tears. “I’ve only been married two years. And I see us going down the same path Mother did before she got a divorce from her first husband. I need to vent. I couldn’t go to Mother. She’s working on her third divorce. My grandparents live out of state. I wanted a real shoulder to cry on. How did you do it? How did you stay married for sixty years?”

“By a book, but right now it is important you came to me. I try to be a good listener. Vent at me all you want. Sit on the couch, and I’ll bring you a box of Kleenex.”

Wendy sat on the couch. Her crying settled down to sniffles.

“Gil says we don’t need a new car. He doesn’t like the electric one I want. We got in a big fight over price of the car and cost of a home charging station for it. I claimed it was better for the environment and has better gas mileage. Just when I thought he might hit me, he turned around, said he was going for a walk, and slammed the door behind him. How do I convince him I am right? How did you win arguments with your husband?”

“The more important question,” said Twila, “is what did you do?”

“I said, ‘I hate you’ and threw his coffee cup at the wall.”

“I bet it broke.”

“Yes. And it made a mess.”

“It didn’t solve anything, did it?”

“No. What else could I do?”

“You won’t like the answer,” said Twila. She paused to see if Wendy was listening. “Without screaming, tell him, ‘I’m sorry I got mad.’ Then run in the bathroom and scream into a towel.”

With an upturned lip, Wendy said, “That’s going to work?”

“No. Not right away. The statement will show respect if not yelled. Screaming in the towel will make you feel better. You’ll probably have to do it several times.”

“If it doesn’t work right away, why try it?”

“Because I’ve prayed for your marriage,” said Twila.

“I don’t think your prayer is working.”

Twila put her arm around Wendy’s shoulders. “Go home. Try it. And think about other ways you can show him respect.”

***** Two weeks later at Twila’s house *****

“It worked, Grandma. It finally worked. I told him I was sorry and ran into the bathroom and screamed into the towel. The seventh time, he came to the bathroom and asked if I really meant it. I said I did. We kissed and made up.”

Grandma smiled and nodded. “Yes. That’s the way it works. Respect for each other.”

“But I never admitted I was wrong, Grandma. The next day we argued again. This time over children. He wants children. I don’t. The only thing we can agree on is that now is not the time. I accused him of not being willing to take care of the child. I tried to explain how I didn’t want to be stuck with diapers and trapped in the house. He talked about teaching his own children, not some undisciplined children from a public school. The argument went downhill from there, including discipline methods and name calling. When will the arguing end?”

“Sixty years of anniversaries doesn’t happen in a day. You must be patient with him and yourself. I’ve known Gil since he was five. I believe he will become a good husband. But it will be by the way you treat him and by what you say.

“Instead of arguing with him, why don’t you invite him with you to an active park and let him point out what he likes about the children there. Who knows? Maybe you’ll like what he likes.”

“That would be different… There’s no commitment in watching. I won’t tell him why, but I’ll see if I can’t get us to take a walk in the park.

***** At the park *****

Gil and Wendy listened to birds singing while walking in the fresh breeze blowing off the trees. It was Saturday, but not too many children were there. Two girls leaned to and fro on the swings while two sets of parents visited nearby.

A third child, a four-year-old boy, looked up at the monkey bars, then at his mother by the swing. He looked at its bars to climb to the top, then ran to Gil.

“Will you lift me onto the monkey bars?”

“There are bars that will get you up there.”

“I know. I like it when Daddy lifts me up there. Mom can’t do it. Will you lift me?”

Gil shrugged and agreed to.

Gil easily lifted the boy. Without expecting it, Wendy saw Gil jump up and grab the bars too. He swung easily from bar to bar, then showed the boy he could do it with one hand. The boy tried, but Gil was close enough to add an extra lift with his free hand to keep the boy on the bars. As the mother came to collect the little boy, memories of what Gil looked like without a shirt made her feel attracted to him sexually. That’s an odd combination, thought Wendy. Sexy and good with children.

***** At Twila’s house weeks later *****

“Oh Grandma,” said Wendy as they greeted each other with a hug. “You’ve been so right about what you’ve been telling me. He’s been responding to what I say. And we have had fewer fights. But I miss how romantic Gil was when we were dating. Now he doesn’t ever say, ‘I love you’.”

“When was the last time you told him ‘I love you’?”

Wendy swayed a little trying to remember. “All I can remember is the night he proposed.”

“You can’t say it just once,” said Twila. “You have to keep saying it throughout your marriage.”

Wendy nodded, then paused. “I have things to get ready.”

***** At the couple’s house that evening *****

Wendy sniffed the Italian spaghetti sauce. The spaghetti and sauce were done at the same time. A lettuce salad was already on the table, as well as the Italian dressing. The centerpiece consisted of three candles.

When Gil walked in after work, he was greeted with low lights, three candles burning, and the sight and smell of a good meal. He stopped and looked confused. “What’s this all about?”

Wendy smiled. “I remembered when I first told you I loved you and wanted to recreate the moment.”

Gil smiled and sat at his place at the table. So did Wendy.

“It was the day you proposed to me,” said Wendy. She took the engagement ring off her left hand and offered it to Gil. “Will you propose to me, so I can say, ‘I love you’ again?”

Gil took the ring, and said, “Will you marry me?”

“Yes,” said Wendy, “I love you.”

Gil reached across the table and put the ring on her hand. Then they continued to hold hands and look in each other’s eyes for several minutes before eating and going to bed.

***** At Twila’s house again ******

“I think I’m on the way to sixty years of marriage, but I want to use that book where you got all your wisdom. Who’s the author?”

The great grandmother smiled and took a well-worn book from a shelf.

“The author is Jesus. You’ll find his exact words and actions in the first four books of the New Testament."

Wendy turned red-faced and cringed. “But… You didn’t quote scripture.”

“Yes I did. Just in a way you could understand. Respecting Gil and controlling your anger is my interpretation of ‘Love your enemies’. Do what is least expected and show respect.”

“And the observing children?”

“Jesus said—and He was a man— ‘Let the little children come unto me.”

“And the ‘I love you’?”

“The whole Bible is a story about how Jesus loved us enough to take the punishment for our sins so we could go to heaven to be with him.”

Wendy tilted her head, looked down, then up at Grandma. “I admit it made a difference so far…Can I borrow the book?”

The great grandmother smiled and offered Wendy the Holy Bible. “Of course.”