The Secret

“So, what’s your secret?” the girl asked, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and pushing the blood pressure cart toward us. She was young and lithe in her scrubs, but we knew she was also highly intelligent and caring. All the staff at this cancer center were beyond amazing. She smiled, “how do you stay married for fifty years? Tell me your secret.”

My husband, Stew, chuckled and looked at me. “You take this one,” he said, “I’ll say the wrong thing and end up in trouble.”

“Let me think,” I said, “I’m not sure I can answer that quickly.”

How did we manage to stay together for all this time, I wondered. We love each other, and respect each other and aren’t those the requirements everyone believes ensures a happy marriage? But it’s more than that. You can love and respect someone and still get a divorce, or, God forbid, cheat. I glanced at Stew. Did he ever cheat? He was a good looking man in his younger days, and women must have tried to catch his eye. He hadn’t, though, as far as I knew and now I would never want to know if he had. My cheeks grew warm as I remembered the man I had considered having an affair with. Thank God nothing came of that infatuation.

Was it just easier to stay together? Had we lacked courage? No, we had plenty of courage and needed every bit of it to raise children, keep his business afloat, keep my career on track, pay for cars and college. We made each other stronger, encouraged and cheered each other on.

The nurse had left, Stew thanking her as she closed the door. Stew said thank you to the nurses when he was sick and they poked and stuck him. He thanked the doctors, too, even as they delivered news like a boxer’s uppercut into our solar plexus.

He was pale. “Here’s your water, honey,” I said and handed him a water bottle. He squeezed my hand and smiled. “What do you think is our secret to a long and happy marriage?” I asked him.

“You just don’t leave,” he said.

“Yes, you’re right. You get up every day and work together. You work things out and stick together. You have to be in it 100% every day,” I agreed, but it still didn’t feel like the answer I was searching for.

“You never give up,” Stew said and we kissed each other quickly as the doctor was coming in.

“Don’t ever give up, baby. I know I won’t,” I whispered in his ear and stepped back so the doctor could speak to us. Stew still held my hand. We were in this together.

Writing Prompts