1. Marriage is a leap of faith

The Volkswagen van slows down beside me. A layer of mud and dust almost hides the original blue colour. A young man leans over, cranks down the passenger window and asks me if I would like a ride. I am late heading to my evening job at the Yukon Inn after a full day working at the bank. I say “Sure” and I get into the van.

An unpleasant smell catches my attention. I turn around and see glistening-wet fish in a bucket on the floor. Later on, I learned that these were Arctic grayling, a freshwater fish popular in the lakes around Whitehorse. Later on, I will spend countless hours fishing for rainbow trout, northern pike and Arctic grayling—all found in many of the lakes throughout the breathtaking Yukon.

(Full disclosure: I had caught a glimpse of this man at the bank this morning and thought he looked harmless … and I was late.)

The short version: Ten minutes later, I was renting a room in his house on Wood Street in downtown Whitehorse. Two years later, we were married in this same house.

The long version: I was 19 years old and hard-earned wisdom and a great deal of luck were still a few decades ahead of me. (If my daughters did this today, I would freak out. Things were different then. Or were they?)

No one told me, 45 years ago, that despite the best planning and the best intentions, a great deal of life is about split-second decisions and events that are out of your control. Each day is a leap of faith.

Marriage is a leap of faith.

2. Them’s fighting words

The earworm (a.k.a. stuck song syndrome) began at a Yukon Sourdough Rendezvous festival in Whitehorse in the late 1970s. We were watching a Frantic Follies Vaudeville Revue, our toes tapping along to the band playing old-fashioned dance-hall music. Can can dancers, with twirling skirts and colourful petticoats, high kicks and cartwheels, did not leave much to our imagination. They did leave us with huge grins. Comical actors in a bar scene were making-believe fighting and engaging in an exchange of dialogue where one said, “Them’s fighting words where I come from.” The other replied, “Then how come you’re not fighting?” To which the first person answered, “‘Cause I ain’t where I come from!”

Later on, we would repeat this to each other. My husband or I began with the first line and the other one would pick up with the second line. We finished it together and burst out laughing, and now we have repeated these silly lines almost every week of our marriage for the past 45 years. It never grows old, and for a brief moment in time, we don’t grow old.

No one told me, 45 years ago, that these shared memories and routines would become an anchor to help us through the ups and downs of life.

3. You do you and I’ll do me

Friends and family avert their eyes. I can hear a pin drop as we share our unpopular little secret with them: We sometimes sleep in separate beds.

Experts on the internet say our marriage is doomed. Their studies show that happy, long-term partners always sleep in the same bed … but snoring, twitchy legs, varying temperatures and different circadian rhythms can create a tired, grumpy partner. For us, sleeping in separate beds, at times, has been a marriage saver—not a deal breaker. Marriage is not an exact science. Staying married is as individual as the individuals in a marriage.

Forty-five years later, I have learned the meaning of “You do you and I’ll do me.”

4. Fighting fair

I often have red ridges on my tongue. I know my husband has them, too. After 45 years, we can easily press each other’s buttons … and not always in a good way. Being hangry, tired and grumpy, along with that final straw in not fighting fair. We have learned to choose our battles and to choose the timing. After 45 years, we have learned how being kind versus being right is always the right answer.

We have learned to fight fair … and the ridges on my tongue are a small price to pay.

5. Humour saves the day

The situation is tense and emotions are raw. My husband and I still find something to smile about. Humour helps us to cope with the challenges in our day and the serious business of life. 

Humour is a constant thread woven into our relationship as laughing lightens the load and we discover a new perspective and a feeling of “this, too, shall pass.”

We also have plain-old silly fun together. We end up laughing about something that would make no sense to anyone else (an inside joke between two people is a priceless gift in a friendship and in our marriage).

Humour (often) saves the day.

And now, 45 years later …

I am thankful that I took a leap of faith and said yes to my rewarding life, and I am truly grateful that my husband has been with me every step of the way. We now live on Vancouver Island where we continue to fish and to enjoy the incredible beauty of nature just minutes from our home. We often share fond memories of how we met and of our years together while living in the breathtaking Yukon. No one ever told me that now (45 years later) “Them’s fighting words” would still make us smile today.

A long-lasting, loving, happy marriage is worth fighting for.

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