I was married to a remarkable woman. She was truly unforgettable; anywhere she went people would remember her based on a combination of three things, her blaze of red hair, her flashing smile, and her vibrant personality. Her hair was like fire spun through with gold, unimaginably thick and wavy, she could have been pulled right out of a Rossetti painting. Bigheartedness just poured out of her thoroughly bright flashing smile, she greeted most everyone with a welcoming openness. Her personality was in every way a match to her physical beauty. She loved fair play and had little tolerance for fools. My marriage to her was absolutely indelible and her loss a pain that seems to grow deeper with the passing days.
It is not my wish to romanticize marriage in general or ours in particular, it is not possible to sustain marital bliss indefinitely or without occasional or even frequent interruptions.
The Integrity of a Marriage is destined to be tested…and often.
The initial flood of indescribable euphoria that accompanies the first flush of love- anticipation, delight, wonder, enchantment, along with the torturous impatience to be together slowly fades over time within a marriage.
In the very beginning every expectation is more than met; in fact, expectations are overwhelmed and carried to unimaginable heights. The total envelopment of fulfillment experienced in those early days inevitably begins to wear off.
I wish it wasn’t so, I wish those early days would have never ended for Ruby and me.
But life conspires against this early remarkable burst of happiness. Human weaknesses, flaws in personality show up. Letdowns occur. Expectations go unmet. Demands are made. Some…unreasonable.
Responsibilities conspire against every surfacing expression of spontaneity. Now come the tests of character, the test of wills, and trials by fire.
I would defy anyone who thought they could take on a woman like Ruby, with that head of hair and not be tested by fire.
We explored every human emotion together: those that rise into the dizzying heights, as well as those that lurk in dark places. Although we knew better, we rushed down headlong on many destructive paths together. We could cut deeply into one another, harshly laying open painful truths about each other, hating ourselves as soon as we let those scathing words fly out.
These episodes would leave us both in a miserable pit of hurt and regret, until one of us would finally walk up and humbly face the other either seeking forgiveness or offering the olive branch. Forgiveness and Reconciliation. These were our only options. We both knew the answer did not lie in breaking apart; the only answer for us was to pull back together. The answer was always drawing in closer again. Where there was hurt we needed more love.
Ruby was strong-willed, determined, persistent, thoroughly fierce in her approach to life, filled with boundless energy, generous, caring, loving and forgiving, trustworthy, unwavering, protective, loyal, and devoted.
I could never leave a woman such as she was. To me she was irreplaceable, as was the love that bound us together.
This is a box I made for Ruby, she kept her most cherished items in it. Photographs, jewelry, her wedding ring if she needed to put it in a safe place, letters from her daughter and grandchildren, a copy of my book of poetry.
It is the testimony of our marriage. It had been broken numerous times. In fits of anger, Ruby would remove everything from it and send it crashing across the floor. I would pick up the pieces and glue them back together, return the box to her. She would put all her things back into it and place it back on the stand where she kept it. One time, after she had flung it down the hall, in my anger, I took the broken pieces and slammed them onto the garage floor from the top of the stair that led down. Then I threw the shattered pieces into the trash.
I couldn’t leave them there; I went back and retrieved every broken piece and every splinter from out of all the nastiness that was piled in the garbage and searched for missing pieces out of every corner of the garage. I glued it all back together. Ruby, as always received the box again and placed all of her precious things back into it and placed it on the stand. If you look closely you can see the scars and dents on the box from all those many years ago.
The Box survived 36 years, and our marriage lasted 36 years. This was ‘Ark of Our Covenant’ and it was mercy, forgiveness, devotion, and love that ruled it and preserved it and preserved us. It now contains her ashes with all the precious things she had kept in it.
If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing.
If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship, but do not have love, I gain nothing.
Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.
It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.
Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.
It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
Love never fails.
1 Corinthians 13:2-8