JOURNAL OF A DYING LADY …#11
by Nancy White Kelly
The year of 1949 must have been a bumper year for weddings. It is unbelievable how many of our friends are celebrating their 50th anniversary this year. It is a good thing that giving gifts for reaching the half century mark in marriage is no longer socially apropos. The only gold I have is in my teeth.
Last week Buddy and I celebrated our 34th wedding anniversary. We met in a Baptist church in Memphis in 1964. Several months later we married. In all these years, we have never seriously considered divorce, just murder.
The success of our marriage is largely due to Buddy’s patient temperament. If we were four-legged, I’d be a spirited Tennessee Walking horse and he’d be a lovable, loyal Mississippi mule. Though our personalities are different, our values are much the same. He can practically read my mind and I quite often finish his sentences. Though we are two, we are one.
I cannot picture life without Buddy. He can’t fathom life without me. This cancer thing is hard to deal with emotionally for both of us.
Sometimes I glance at a family picture and experience an unexpected rush of tears. Buddy takes long walks and angrily kicks loose rocks along the way. After fostering a dozen kids, adopting one, and then finally getting our own son off to college, we looked forward to a peaceful retirement. This recurrence of cancer was a most unwelcome shock.
Terminal disease has a way of awakening a marriage even if it was already good. Spontaneous hugs come at odd times in odd places. Late at night, I often leave my hospital bed in the spare room and climb into bed with Buddy. Only then can either of us sleep soundly. We belong together.
Buddy and I had the word "Mizpah" put on our wedding cake. It was also engraved in our wedding bands. It will be on the ribbon that drapes my coffin. "Mizpah" is a Hebrew word taken from Genesis which means, "The Lord watch between me and thee when we are absent one from another."
Cancer cannot cripple our love or change eternity. Buddy and I will remain together until "death do us part." Then, after a little while, we will be together again. So help me, God.