Last week I wrote about all the stuff, mostly Randy’s, that no longer serves me. The idea for that post came from the widow and grief materials that bombard me daily on Facebook. Those algorithms really work. This week I saw several things that made an impact on me.
I used to joke, even before Randy got sick, that if something ever happened to him I’d never get married again. I didn’t want to train another husband. It was a good punch line, almost guaranteed to make someone laugh. They say there’s always a kernel of truth lurking behind the best comedic lines.
But since Randy’s been gone, I’ve come to a very different conclusion about how our marriage evolved. First, I admit I didn’t train Randy. I’m even a bit ashamed I used to say that around him.
When he and I talked to younger people, we used to tell them that in our opinion, 1 of 4 things happen that help determine marriage success or failure. The first two are that one or the other of the spouses grows and the other doesn’t. In other words, either the wife grows and the husband doesn’t or the husband grows and the wife doesn’t. The third thing is that neither the husband nor wife grows.
When I talk about growth I’m talking primarily about intellectual and emotional maturity. If any of those 3 no growth scenarios above occur, I think the marriage stands a good chance of not lasting long enough to fulfill the Till-Death-Do-Us-Part part of the vows.
The fourth thing, the one that gives a couple the greatest chance for a shot at happily ever after, is that both the husband and the wife grow, and they grow together. They learn together and embrace the reality of what it truly means to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish till death do us part.
That’s what happened to us. I didn’t train him. We grew together, little by little. We had some better and some worse. We made mistakes and fixed them. We had some sickness and some poorer along the way. We admitted when we were wrong and reiterated our commitment to making the marriage work.
We learned to handle things as a team, we respected (sometimes ignored) each other’s quirkiness, we often didn’t need words to communicate. Randy preached to anyone who listened that no marriage can succeed as a 50-50 proposition. He knew, and lived, that a husband or wife needs to be willing to give 90% a lot of times to make up for the times your partner isn’t willing or able to contribute what they should.
We discovered, together over the years, how to make it all work. We were two halves of a whole, so much so that some of our friends called us Laurand.
Now, suddenly, half of Laurand is gone. I have to figure out how to regenerate or reinvent the missing parts so I can continue to live whole. It’s a challenge I’m up for.
Who is Laurie in 2026 after 50 years with one man? The old Laurie is probably long gone. But a new (maybe improved) Laurie can be reinvented on the foundation of what still remains. For those of you who knew Randy, he’d so be up to the challenge of making the new one better, more useful, more efficient, more interesting and impressive. I accept that challenge to honor him.
I went to the park in my subdivision to walk yesterday morning. There’s about a mile and a half of crushed shell paths around 2 small lakes in an area that is an old golf course. I don’t particularly like to walk (the sweaty, dripping, stinky body that results is a primary reason) but I know it’s good for me. It takes about 25 minutes for me to cover that route.
As I started on the path yesterday, I started talking (in my head) to Randy about some of the things I’ve been pondering about becoming Laurie again. When I do that, he answers.
Now, full disclosure. I like to think he answers, but I understand it could just be that I know him so well I know what he’d say in response to what I am thinking. Either way, it feels like a 2-way telepathic conversation to me. Call me crazy, I can take it.
I started out whining a little bit about how I really don’t like to walk, especially in the heat. The mile and a half seems sooooo long and I hate how much I’m sweating by the time I stagger back to my car.
When I walk, I start my phone’s stopwatch. My goal each day is to add a tiny bit of time to the walk I took yesterday.
Here’s what “Randy” “said” to me as I was whining and contemplating adding 10 seconds to yesterday’s walk time.
Laurie, how do you eat an elephant?
You’re such a good planner and goal achiever that you sometimes miss the journey rushing to get to the destination. Everyone’s been telling you to give yourself some grace. Don’t rush to goals right now. Don’t even think about goals. In fact, I challenge you not to look at your stopwatch time even once until you get back to the car. If you miss adding a few seconds to your walking time today, it doesn’t matter to anyone. No one cares. You got out and walked.
It’s that elephant thing, Laurie. Just take it a little bit at a time. Pick a tree and a bench a little way in the distance and make that your goal. When you’re there, pick your next goal. Have 10 little walking goals till you’re back at your car. THEN see how far you’ve come. And celebrate it, whether it’s more or less than yesterday. I’ll be right here beside you, in spirit, cheering you on and supporting whatever you want to do.
You still have a lot of living to do, Babe. Here, in the place we exist when we’re not wearing human bodies, we know nothing but love. Even incarnated you have the capacity to love without restriction. You still love me and can love other people there or here, too. You know this because you’ve written before about all the forms love comes in. Take it all just a little bit at a time. There’s no race, there’s nothing to prove. Just keep living and loving. Eat this elephant one bite at a time.
And then, I swear, for a split second, I saw him beside me, reaching for my hand.
That’s what made Randy such a good man and a good husband. He was my biggest supporter. He wanted the best for me. Not things, but in achieving my fullest potential. In becoming the best version of Laurie I can be. When he was here, we tried to be the best we could be together. He wanted, more than anything, for me to be happy.
I know, even now, as he watches from wherever his soul lives on, without a doubt, he wants me to be the best Laurie I can be, even without him. So, I move forward, little by little, to make that happen. It makes me smile knowing he’s somewhere cheering for me.
P.S. This may shock some of you, but I’ve paid the price of admission on a seniors dating site. I know it’s early. Some of you will think too early. Good thing I’m comfortable in my own skin.
Some friends have had good experiences and found great relationships, some friends are horrified because they had terrible and sometimes frightening experiences. I did it primarily for research so when I’m ready I’ll know how it all works. I see the approaches and patterns scammers use. It’s been entertaining above all. I’m cautious and careful. There’s no rush. I’m interested in making friends with whom I have things in common, including losing a spouse. I’m smiling a lot, in both amusement and gratitude. If nothing else, it’ll make a good future blog post.
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