Category Archives: Anniversary

Self-revelations of Marriage

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This time of year, brings so many memories and feelings to the forefront.  I love the fall themes: pumpkins, scarecrows & falling leaves.  Even though it’s still very hot and muggy, there have been a few hints at the cooler weather that is on its way. 

Next week is the 8th anniversary of my marriage to Tim.   A little less than a month later, I will observe the 36th anniversary of my first marriage.  This year, will mark 18 years without my husband of 18 years.  It’s an odd feeling to realize that Terry has been gone as long as we were married. 

Each of these anniversaries carries it’s own emotions.  I am so grateful to have been blessed with 2 awesome husbands.  As I look back, I have few regrets.  There are however, things I wish I had done the first 8 years I was married to Terry.

I wish I had “read the room” a little better.  There were a lot of family dynamics that I just didn’t understand.  I viewed my in-laws through my own family experiences.  It took a long time to understand and accept the way Terry’s view of marriage/family was shaped by his relationship with his parents.  When we were first dating, we talked about being from similar backgrounds.  Truthfully, the only similarities were 1) our parents were still married and 2) we both grew up in a Southern Baptist Church. 

I wish I known more about ways of communicating early in our marriage.  Growing up, my dad would say “If you have a chance, maybe you could . . .”  I knew that this wasn’t really a suggestion and that he would be upset if it wasn’t done when he got home.  So, I used this same method with Terry.  The problem was, he also had his own communication training.  His response to any request was “I’ll try.”  For years, we when back and forth on things.  I would make “suggestions” and he would “try”.  Terry’s family screamed and threw stuff to make a point.  I shut down when the voices were raised.  We were both frustrated.  I had to learn to state what I needed and he had to learn to be intentional. 

I wish I had let go of my expectations sooner.  In my twenties, I had my whole life ahead of me and I was certain I could handle it all.  I was a women of spreadsheets and goals. And, I loved and married a dreamer.  He had big dreams. He could write and create and I would get caught up in the hopes and dreams.  And then, I would get angry when the execution of those dreams didn’t happen as planned.  I wasted a lot of time being mad.  When I finally took a moment to readjust my expectations, our marriage took  a huge leap forward.  Other people noticed the difference.  I had to learn to support the dreamer that I loved by grounding our marriage in reality. 

I wish I had been louder in my appreciation of Terry.  He was a great man and a super dad.  We made the decision early in our marriage that he would be the stay-at-home parent.  He took a lot of grief from others, especially our families.  He was viewed as “unable” to hold a job when the reality was this was our choice.  He was deemed a failure by many.  Those that didn’t know him assumed he was lazy or inept.  Nothing was further from the truth.  Terry was creative.  He wrote plays and our church children’s worship curriculum.  He loved being on the stage and could act and sing.  He created back grounds for the children’s area that were phenomenal.  The biggest compliment he received was many years after his death.  Our son made the choice to leave a lucrative position to work from home.  He told me “I want to be the dad to my son that my dad was to me!” 

My current marriage has benefited greatly from these experiences.  There were still some growing pains, but I came into this marriage with a clearer view of how hard marriage can be.  Marriage in your 50’s is very different from marriage in your 20’s.  Marriage with adult children has it’s own challenges, as well. 

If I could give anyone in the first decade of marriage any advice, this would be it:

  1.  Find your own way to communicate.  Men and women do not communicate in the same way.  EVER.  Yelling, curse words, door slamming are not effective.  Find ways to make your needs known without being aggressive or demanding.  Remember to say “I love you!” and “Thank You” and “Please”. 
  2. Learn to accept and appreciate your spouse’s contributions.  Is getting things done “MY” way really the only outcome?  If I constantly redo or criticize how my spouse does things (laundry, cleaning, family time),  my spouse will eventually stop trying.  Then what have I accomplished, really. 
  3. Perfection may be the goal, but it’s not usually reality.  And, your views of what is perfect may not intersect with those of your spouse. Relax and let go on the minor things.  Pick a few non-negotiables and drop the rest.  The chore list may need to be abbreviated.  Personal down time may need to be planned into the week.  Find the balance so you don’t start resenting each other for what is demanded and/or not done.
  4. Stop using the words “always” and “never” as in “You ALWAYS want to play games” or “You NEVER clean the house”.
  5. Leave time for romance and each other.  That sounds easy.  But money is sometimes tight.  When the kids are small, there is never enough time and/or energy.  Even if you don’t feel romantic, make the effort.  Go out once a month.  If nothing else, pawn the kids off on the grandparents/friends and then go home and chill for a few hours.  Speak up if you need a date night.
  6. Do not hesitate to seek counseling. A third party can often point out the blind spots you each have. Going to counselling is not a sign of failure. On the contrary, it’s an indication that you intend to succeed.

Most of all, keep remembering WHY you married this person.  The very things that are driving you nuts now, may be the things that were attractive in the beginning. 

Marriage is a challenge.  It takes every ounce of energy on some days.  And, it is worth every moment of angst and joy. 

I am blessed to have a 2nd chance with my blended family.  I have learned to never take a moment for granted.

Twice Blessed

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Today is a day of remembrance for me. Thirty-one years ago, I married my first husband, Terry Benson. The memories of that day are happy if a little bittersweet. In sixteen days, we will note the 13th anniversary of Terry’s death.

Terry and I loved each other very much. We laughed, cried, fought and loved a lot over the 18 years we had together. We watched our kids grow into teens and enjoyed their activities both together and separately. I loved him so much that I struggled with how to let him go

If you have never experienced widowhood, it’s hard to explain the emotions that go with it. There’s the obvious loss of the person. But, there is also a loss of identity. I had been part of a couple for so long and it was hard to be “just me” again. I was not longer Terry’s wife. So, I took refuge in being Zac and Gracie’s mom. I missed all of the things that I had come to take for granted. No longer would Terry drive me to work and drop me off at the front door. He was no longer there to pack my lunch. When I got really irritated at work, I couldn’t call and hear him tell me it would be okay. When the kids activities conflicted, I had to choose which one would have to go it alone or figure out how to be two places at once. When the car broke down or had a flat, I now had to deal with it. I had to figure out what bills had to be paid and when. And, I had to figure out how to sleep at night without the sound of his breathing.

I managed the life of a widow for almost 10 years. I thought I was pretty well adjusted and capable as a single adult. I had even learned to enjoy life again. And then love came knocking. Love in my fifties was a bit different that in my twenties. We both had a history and the baggage that goes with that. We had different experiences from our previous marriages and quite honestly, different expectations because of that. And, we had five children who all had an opinion.

As I admitted my love for Tim, my new husband, I had to question how I could love both men so deeply. I struggled with feeling like I was cheating on Terry. Even though he had been dead for almost a decade, my heart still ached to hear his voice. I had promised to love him until “death do us part” and I had yet to release my heart from that promise. As well as I thought I had handled my grief, there were lots of things that I had never addressed. I had buried my depression with activity. I was so accustomed to “putting on a brave face” that I almost forgot what it was to be honest about my feelings. So, ten years later, I was in counseling trying to sift through all of these emotions.

I am still amazed at how deeply I love now. Tim is very gracious and we share many sweet memories of Terry together. I am so grateful that he is not threatened by my memories. God allowed me the double blessing of loving completely not once, but twice. I will never forget the life that Terry and I shared. I will tell our grandson, Joshua Terry about his Papa Terry when he’s older. And I will continue to be grateful for both of my husbands. God has truly blessed me in so many ways

 

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“But those who trust in the LORD will find new strength. They will soar high on wings like eagles. They will run and not grow weary. They will walk and not faint.” Isaiah 40:31

Three Years Down, More to Come

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Today, is my 3rd anniversary, the end of one year and the beginning of another in our marriage. I still have moments when I can’t believe that I am Mrs. Douglas. I get to watch him work around the house. I hear his wonderful piano playing. I spy him coaching my daughter how to install cabinets or floors or plumbing. I see him sleeping next to me and say a prayer of thankfulness for this journey in my life.

Our marriage hasn’t been smooth sailing. There have been lots of bumps along the way, some bigger than others. And we have survived. We have learned that their are friends that stick with you through thick and thin. And sadly, that there are others that are just along for the fun and disappear during stress. We’ve endured snide comments and remarks both before and after our wedding. And, through it all, I am so glad that we are together.

I’ve learned that happiness is a choice. No one person or thing will make me happy. But, our marriage has offered numerous opportunities for me to choose happiness. I’m am reminded that love can be hard. However, the benefits of loving another so completely are without measure. I know that blending two families offers immense challenges. And, I adore all five of our kids and their spouses/significant others and the effort it takes to get us all together. It’s worth it all!

As we begin the 4th year of our marriage, I am thankful for the wonderful man that is my husband. He is kind and generous. He never meets a stranger. He shelters me and treats me as if I’m made of glass. I love the compliments he gets for pulling out my chair and opening the door for me, acts of chivalry that are not often seen these days. He says what needs to be said and not just what I want to hear. He listens when I disagree or just need to talk it out. He loves me deeply and expresses that in so many ways. I am truly blessed to have him in my life.

I look forward to all the things that God will do in our lives. I KNOW that He has a plan to use both of us. I KNOW that we are loved and cherished Kids of the King. I KNOW that we will have difficulties in the days to come. And, I KNOW that I serve a God that answers prayers so I continue to pray for the miraculous and the wonderful in our lives as well as those that surround us.

His words are kisses, his kisses words. Everything about him delights me, thrills me through and through! That’s my lover, that’s my man, dear Jerusalem sisters.           

Song of Solomon 5:16 MSG

And Now I See. . .

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In 2005, my husband died. It was unexpected and it was devastating to me. Many well-meaning people shared scripture that were meant to be comforting. But, at the time, I didn’t find much comfort or even any semblance of truth in many of the verses shared.

“So I will restore to you the years that the swarming locust has eaten,” Joel 2:25a 

“then the LORD your God will restore your fortunes and have compassion on you and gather you again from all the nations where he scattered you.” Deuteronomy 30:3 

“God blessed Job’s later life even more than his earlier life. He ended up with fourteen thousand sheep, six thousand camels, one thousand teams of oxen, and one thousand donkeys.  He also had seven sons and three daughters.” Job 42:12-13 

I didn’t understand how some unknown thing in the future would ever replace what I had lost when my husband died. How could the years we lost together be restored? My husband was dead. Nothing could ever replace him in my heart. Nothing new would replace what I had lost. I couldn’t accept that any of these promises was meant for me, personally.  I was in pain. I grieved the loss of my life as I knew it and as I had dreamed that it would be.

But now, I see. I have a new marriage and with it a new extended family. My new husband is not a replacement for the one I lost. I will always grieve that death in some way. One doesn’t love completely and then forget that relationship. But, this new marriage has taught me that I can love again, that my life did not end. I have been given a chance to experience a deeply passionate love, once again.

This marriage is different from the one I began in my twenties. This marriage is founded on a long-standing friendship and maturity that I lacked 30 years ago. I can love more completely because I understand the fragility of life and relationships. I have learned to give all now, because I do not know what tomorrow holds in this life. I try not to miss a chance to say “I Love you” for I have determined to never again regret words not spoken. I cherish the quiet breaks, the silly moments, the busy times and even the heated, uncomfortable times; for they represent all the things that form a lasting and loving relationship. I vow to speak positively about my husband and to honor him in my words and actions. I am aware how important it is for my all of my children (both through birth and marriage) to have a model of stability to use as a pattern in their own lives.

This marriage of almost 3 years will never replace the 18 years of my first marriage. This marriage is new.  This marriage is a blessing of restoration and joy. I can truly say the God has blessed my later life even more than my earlier life. He has restored my joy.

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“You’ve kept track of my every toss and turn
through the sleepless nights,
Each tear entered in your ledger,
each ache written in your book.

God, you did everything you promised,
and I’m thanking you with all my heart.
You pulled me from the brink of death,
my feet from the cliff-edge of doom.
Now I stroll at leisure with God
in the sunlit fields of life.”

Psalm 56:8, 12-13 MSG

 

 

 

 

 

Crispy Edges

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My daughter looks forward to the pancakes at Cracker Barrel.  Really, she just looks forward to the edges of the pancakes; the crispy browned edges are her favorite.  But, when it comes to orange rolls or brownies, it’s the soft inner pieces that are the best.

Grief gives life crispy edges.  Edges that are delicate and break easily.  Edges that call to you at times.  I prefer to live in the warm, protected center of life.  That’s where my family is the safest and the happiest.  That is where I search for my  value and my worth.  But, there are times, that I must venture out to the edges and taste the bittersweetness that comes with memories.  Fragile memories that still have the power to break my heart.  Precious memories that fade a little with time, but still stir up so many emotions when unwrapped.

Today is a day for the edges.  Thirty years ago on this day, I became Mrs. Terry Benson.  We set out on the adventure of life together.  I see people talk about marrying their best friend and can’t help but wonder how they define friendship.  Terry was indeed my best friend.  We did  everything together.  We had one car for most of our marriage, so he drove me to work each morning and picked me up each afternoon.  He packed my lunch for me.  When the time came, he was a stay at home dad for our kids.  He never complained about me to my family.  He was only complimentary.  He didn’t call me rude names behind my back.  He was always uplifting and protective of me.  He loved my family and never criticized my relationship with them.   Even when things were rough with his own20140214-070338.jpg family, he never said unkind or mean things about them.  There were many times that we disagreed and fought.  And we always came to an agreement and forgave.  Our marriage was more important that either of us as individuals.

So for today, I venture out to the edges that are crisp and full of memories.  Today, I will savor the memories of the love of my early life, the father of my children.  I know that these memories don’t diminish the love I have now for Tim.  My past has prepared me to love him even more deeply.  The edges remind me how fragile life and love can be.  I know that I want to protect the soft center where my life and love currently exist.

Sometimes crispy edges are what we need.  And, sometimes its the soft center that we desire.  Life is made up of both.

63,072,000

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Today is our wedding anniversary.

63,072,000 seconds

1,051,200 minutes

17,520 hours

731 days

104 weeks

24 months

2 years

I am so blessed to be married to this man who just wants to take care of me.

I will always be grateful for this man who opens doors for me,  pulls out my chair and prepares my first cup of coffee every morning.

I am so happy that this mans works so hard, but still finds ways to make me laugh.

I will never underestimate the value of the man who loves and serves all of our adult children.

I will never take for granted this man who is so passionate about our life together.

He is my friend, my confidante, my joy, my lover, my husband.  I love him more that I did two years ago, more than I thought possible.

Here’s to the rest of our lives together.  Whether it’s for 1 second or 1 Billion seconds, I am so glad we get to spend it together!

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“24 Wives, understand and support your husbands in ways that show your support for Christ. The husband provides leadership to his wife the way Christ does to his church, not by domineering but by cherishing. So just as the church submits to Christ as he exercises such leadership, wives should likewise submit to their husbands.

25-28 Husbands, go all out in your love for your wives, exactly as Christ did for the church—a love marked by giving, not getting. Christ’s love makes the church whole. His words evoke her beauty. Everything he does and says is designed to bring the best out of her, dressing her in dazzling white silk, radiant with holiness. And that is how husbands ought to love their wives. They’re really doing themselves a favor—since they’re already “one” in marriage.

29-33 No one abuses his own body, does he? No, he feeds and pampers it. That’s how Christ treats us, the church, since we are part of his body. And this is why a man leaves father and mother and cherishes his wife. No longer two, they become “one flesh.” This is a huge mystery, and I don’t pretend to understand it all. What is clearest to me is the way Christ treats the church. And this provides a good picture of how each husband is to treat his wife, loving himself in loving her, and how each wife is to honor her husband.”

Ephesians 5:24-33 MSG

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Celebration

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We celebrated this weekend. The focus of the celebration was the Twenty-Fifth anniversary of my pastor and his wife at Westland. But, I celebrated a lot more than that.

I celebrated the children that have grown into wonderful young adults through the years at Westland. Some of them are now raising their own families. I love watching the generations grow.

I celebrated friends. Friends that knew both Terry and I as well as new friends that only know me. I spent time with some very special friends and was reminded how wonderful it is to have them in my life. And, I was a bit ashamed that I don’t spend more time with them “just because.”

I celebrated memories. Memories of the last 17 years at Westland and the people who have passed through the doors. Some as quick blips in my life, others that have made a big impact and then moved on their way.

I celebrated the God Strings that pulled us all together, weaving our lives into a tapestry that is as unique as it is wonderful. The tears, the laughter, the coming and the going are all elements that have shaped my life. I pray that the rest of my life is as full and rich with the treasure of friends and family as it is today.

Eight

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There’s nothing really spectacular about the number 8. It’s not a prime number. In the dictionary it is “the number following seven and before nine.” It’s not a symbol of perfection like seven or three. It’s just eight. But there are some things associated with the number 8.

An octupus has 8 legs.

The Octet rule in science deals with the line up of electrons.

The eighth amendment prohibits the federal government from imposing excessive bail, excessive fines or cruel and unusual punishments, including torture.

Eight track tapes were all the rage in mid-sixties thru the seventies.

“Eight is Enough” was a popular television series in the late seventies.

Eight O’Clock coffee is a well-known brand of coffee.

No one wants to be behind the eight ball.

Skaters work on their figure eights.

In music, eight notes make up an octave. There is also an eighth note, 1/8 of the whole. And, eight people making music together is an octet.

Eight babies born at the same time to one mother are octuplets.

It took me eight years to complete elementary & middle school classes. And then I spent eight more years finishing High School and college classes.

And finally, eight is the number of years you’ve been gone. Eights years of our kids lives without your input. Eight years of spending anniversaries alone. Eight years.

I miss you, Terry.

Terry Gene Benson
Feb 1, 1958 – Nov 2, 2005

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Darkness

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When I was a child, my parents would take us to Six Flags over Texas in Arlington. At that time, the park was divided into sections that represented the six flags that had flown over Texas: Spain, France, Mexico, Republic of Texas, Confederate and USA. In the Republic of Texas area, one of the rides was the Davy Crockett River Adventure. You would get on a big “boat” and float down the river. On the way, you would see Indians hiding in the trees and shooting at the boat. There were bandits that were trying to stop the boat, too. The first time I was on this ride, I was in kindergarten. While the adults could see that the people attacking the boat were actually mannequins and the shots fired were really fakes, to a five-year old, it was terrifying. At the end of the ride, the boat guide would start yelling “Oh no! We’re going into that cave! We’re doomed!” In front of the boat, a waterfall would part and the cave would open up to allow us to enter. And, then it closed behind us. I don’t remember much about that first ride. Except for the screaming. My Screaming. I panicked and nothing my dad could do would calm me down. I was certain we would never escape from that cave with it’s spooky skeletons. Of course, we did find our way out. I think all the riders on that boat were glad to escape the screaming little girl. It was YEARS before I chose to travel on the Davy Crockett River Adventure again.

The past few weeks of my life have felt like that river ride. Everything has been dark and a bit sad. Small things that would usually be no big deal have set off explosions in me. Memories have come fast a furious, many precious ones and some I’d rather forget. I know that they’re just memories to be visited and then left behind, but I can’t seem to walk away. I’m surrounded and I don’t know how to escape. This weekend, I entered that cave. It has been dark and scary and I know it’s not forever, but I feel the panic rising and the screams trying to escape just the same. I’ve pushed away those that care about me. No matter how many tears I’ve cried, it’s just not enough. The nightmare just continues.

But, I’m beginning to see the light that marks the way out. I know there is escape from the darkness. I see flashes of hope. Breathing is getting easier, the smiles are not as forced. There will be a few more tears before I’m completely out of the cave. I will come out! And I pray that it’s a very long time before I visit this dark place again.

For his anger lasts only a moment, but his favor lasts a lifetime!
Weeping may last through the night, but joy comes with the morning.
Psalm 30:5 NLT

Confession

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I have a confession: I’m not crazy about life. In fact, I don’t like it much at all. And, I feel guilty admitting this. I have been given so much in this life. I had 18 years in a wonderful marriage to a man who loved me to his last breath. I have two fantastic kids, a great family and friends that knock it out of the park. I have a home and a good job and I get to serve and worship with some wonderful people throughout the week. I should be enjoying it everyday. But, I’m ready to resign!

Behind every ray of sunshine, there seems to be a dark cloud. I get something repaired and something else breaks. I’ve never been very good at criticism (taking it, handing it out is a breeze) and that’s all I hear: I’m too mean. Or, I’m not taking a stand. I’m too involved. Then, I’m not showing enough interest. My body is revolting against me. I need to get more exercise and get the endorphins pumping, but my knee or my back or my hip or my sinus’ keep me inside. Some days the only thing I do well is stand in the middle of the living room and cry. And I’m tired of crying.

So, I remind myself of the blessings I have and hold on to the hope that “this too will pass.” I look forward to better days and until then will paste on a happy face and pretend. Maybe my brain will start to believe. I’ll try to be a little less sensitive and remember that stuff happens.

There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens:
a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot,
a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build,
a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance,
a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them, a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,
a time to search and a time to give up, a time to keep and a time to throw away,
a time to tear and a time to mend, a time to be silent and a time to speak,
a time to love and a time to hate, a time for war and a time for peace.

What do workers gain from their toil? I have seen the burden God has laid on the human race. He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet[a] no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end. I know that there is nothing better for people than to be happy and to do good while they live. That each of them may eat and drink, and find satisfaction in all their toil—this is the gift of God. I know that everything God does will endure forever; nothing can be added to it and nothing taken from it. God does it so that people will fear him.
Ecclesiastes 3:1-14 NIV