“Bye.”

“See you later.”

“Have a good day…Oh yeah; don’t forget to drop off the dry cleaning.”

Forgettable words. Certainly not what most of us dreamed about for our lifelong romance. I once heard Ruth Graham say most marriages in America start at a boil and end up something more like a cup of weak, room-temperature tea.

I wonder what some young couples have to look forward to these days. They may have had a $30,000 wedding and a photographer to capture them looking like Hollywood stars. A honeymoon on a tropical island that perhaps will set them up for a dismal letdown as they return to a stack of bills and the day-to-day reality of married life.

Greg and I didn’t realize how fortunate we were to have stumbled on to a better start. Our wedding was planned on a shoestring; I wore an ill-fitted dress that was handed down to me by my older sister, who unfortunately was shorter and quite a bit “curvier” than I. He wore a rented, shiny gray tux and platform shoes that made him look strange. Something of a mix between hippie and pimp.

We honeymooned with a bit of cash from wedding gifts that didn’t take us to Tahiti, but to the Tiki Room at Disneyland. After we drove up the coast to Carmel, California, we spent one evening in a drive-in theater watching the movie Jeremiah Johnson until the fog rolled in and obscured the screen in a thick mist. We missed seeing the climactic ending with Robert Redford being mauled by a bear. We had to imagine what was happening, since there was absolutely no dialogue to speak of, only grunts and other strange sound effects. We laugh about it now. Ah, those were the romantic days…not!

We were at a great advantage and didn’t know it at the time. We had each other and that was about it. Life had to get better; we were at the bottom financially and had no where to go but up!

Still, the busyness of life has a way of making even the steamiest marriages cool off. Call it entropy or inevitability. I love the scene in Fiddler on the Roof where Golde is asked by Tevye, “Golde, do you love me?” Her answer is:

“For twenty-five years I’ve washed your clothes

Cooked your meals, cleaned your house

Given you children, milked the cow

After twenty-five years, why talk about love right now?”

Life has taken us through a ringer in recent years, but we have each other. I want to tell you what a 36-year marriage has to say about love: You have got to keep at it. I’m certain Greg knows I love him. And yet I will never assume he doesn’t  need to hear it, see it, and feel it!

So today, after Greg walked out the door, I made a resolution. I will not let him out the door or in the door again without giving him a kiss. Not just a peck on the cheek—a sweet kiss accompanied by a warm embrace. I am going to take the time to look in his eyes and show him I love him. No one else can do that for him but me.

And after all, how long might a good kiss last? Ten seconds? And if there are no children around…who knows?

It could be the best investment of ten seconds you will ever make. Will you married ladies join me on this one? Let’s try…