Golden Anniversary 


Fifty years ago today Karen and I “tied the knot”. 

We share the anniversary with Karen's older sister, Linda, and her husband, Malcolm, who had been engaged long before we were. Two separate weddings in one year were not in the cards, so Mac and Linda graciously allowed us to "crash their party". Fifty years later, they remain that couple who cares for everyone else before themselves, a model of grace and generosity.

I won’t say much about the ceremony except that there were a few dicey moments when the minister got a bit flustered. Very flustered, actually. Malcolm and I came perilously close to making Canadian history, but the reverend held it together and tied the right knots. I think it was his first double wedding, too.

I can’t speak for Mac and Linda, but as for Karen and me, we went into marriage without a clue. Not one. No idea about how to live together, no idea about how to deal with finances, how to agree, how to disagree. We knew none of those things, and nobody had yet invented pre-marriage counselling. We more or less stepped out into the dark, having made solemn promises, intending to keep them. And so far, so good.

We completely trusted one another. We had to. No side deals, no hedging of bets– it was “all in” for a lifetime. This was not a trial run to see if it worked. We were of an age and a generation where it was all or nothing. 

From the beginning everything was held in common. I don’t imagine that over fifty years we ever had more than a few hundred dollars that weren’t in the common account, except for business, and even that was of common concern.

Some people say you should marry your best friend. I’m not sure that we did it that way, we were so young. But we ended up becoming best friends with the persons we married, so I guess that worked out.

We were lucky (or perhaps I should say I was lucky because Karen showed the way) because we never screamed at or insulted one another. Sure, sometimes we sulked, but we never had the time or luxury to do much of that. Even when we were upset with one another, the baseline was civility.

Sunshine and roses? Occasionally, but not always. In fact, there were one or two times we stared into the abyss, wondering if it had all been a mistake. Those were awful times, and we didn't give them much chance to take root, because we’d made promises that had to be kept, kids to raise, and a future to build. We both bit our tongues, swallowed our pride, and got back into friendship, with trust unbroken.

A friend from Swift Current explained to me once that marriage is like your investment account – the more you’ve put in, the more valuable it is, and the more important it is to keep it growing. He also said that after you've been married for a while, the best partner in the world for you is the one you already have. I think he was right on both counts.

And Mac and Linda? Well, after fifty years they're still putting others first, and still very much in love.