Yesterday, Tom and I celebrated (or lived through) our 51st wedding anniversary. We went fishing off a dock at a nearby lake. We caught two bullheads, one sunny, and one “sushi” perch. Basically, we drowned worms to celebrate.

Oh, we could have dined somewhere fancy, I guess, but that’s really not my style. Tom says, “Anything the Queen wants.” Now, isn’t that sweet? When Tom wants to give me my way or wants, he calls me Queen.

Now, if I ever want to get another dog, Tom won’t be calling me Queen.

Tom and I were just young kids when we got married, still in college, Christless, and not a nickel to our names. We were crazy in love, and so we still are. Oh, he annoys me plenty, and he would say the same, but not out loud. I guess we have respect for one another and care deeply about the other’s feelings.

Tom is more quiet, and I, on the other hand, more explosive. Ha! He has stayed mostly the same over the years, and I have become less explosive. 

I used to be a thrower. Throw objects, that is. I don’t know. Just seemed like the thing to do when I got angry. Really, all it did was make a mess that I had to clean up and apologize for later.

Tom doesn’t hold grudges, which is a nice trait to have in a marriage. When we were first married, we had a green Volkswagen Beetle that, for some reason, would just die. Then you would push it and pop the clutch to get it started. 

One day, the green beetle died, and Tom told me to get in the driver’s side, and he would push. He very specifically told me, “When I say NOW, pop the clutch.

My young handsome college man was pushing the little green beetle a good clip when he yells, “NOW.!”

Me, being the young wifey, POPPED the clutch and then put on the brake.

I’m so proud of myself. The little green bug is purring again. I see Tom coming from around the end of the car to the window.

Something isn’t right. He has blood around his mouth and is a little banged up. 

“Why did you put on the brake?” my not-so-handsome husband calmly says.

Why I thought that would be the normal thing to do, you know. Why leave Tom and just drive off?

We never did find the other half of his front tooth, and Tom never blamed me for it. It’s good not to hold grudges, yes? 

Oh, Tom isn’t a saint either, even though the Bible says he is. He has his faults, which I have accepted but not embraced either. 

From the day we met and for many years thereafter, Tom was always looking for a different car. It must be a guy thing. Girls like shoes and guys like cars. Not apples to apples, but a truth just the same.

At times it seemed that we would have a “new” car every few months or years. Now mind you, our stack of nickels was not very high, but Tom always seemed to be able to buy his dream car. Why we had a beautiful white Mustang that had some issues that transitioned to a tiny MG with a block of wood for an accelerator pedal. We had cars with no shocks that hopped down the road. One time, when the children were young, and he was a young pastor, Tom bought a red van with painted flames on the wheel wells. But that’s not all. It had a bed in the back. Not seats for the children, but a bed! I think that might have been the car that had the shifter jury-rigged on the floor, too. Can’t keep them all straight. 

I thought there was no cure for this disease, but Tom has mellowed out a bit. He still calls about cars or we will drive the lots, but now I request an ice cream cone if we drive lots.

So yesterday, me and my honey enjoyed our 51st honeymoon drowning worms and being glad one of us knows how to remove a hook from a fish’s mouth.

Don’t hold a grudge!