To Advertise Call 781-585-0037

May 15th 2008

HIM & Her:
This ‘old dog’ loves the ‘old gray mare’
by Nancy and Dan Sapir

HIM: This past weekend I accompanied her to a surprise birthday party for one of her friends. On the drive to Bridgewater I got to thinking about when we were both a lot younger. I also got to thinking that you could judge the number of years people are married by how far apart they sit. I can remember the early years, almost 40 years ago when she would slide over in the seat of the car to sit right next to me, You couldn’t slide a sheet of paper between us. Of course those were the days before bucket seats and also the days when I would hold open and close the door for her. But those were also the days before we were married.

Here we were driving down 106 with her oversized purse between us and her clutching a sweater on her lap. Boy, how things have changed. Back in the 60’s I had perfected the art of driving with one hand. I was a smoker back then and could even whip open the lighter on my leg with a downward stroke and light it on the upward. I remember practicing at home for hours to develop my craft; after all, it was a pre-requisite to puberty. Those were also the heyday years of drive-in theatres. I still remember the old Kingston Drive-in Theatre run by a terrific guy named Paul Hachey. It closed back in the 80’s and Nancy and I spent plenty of time there…with a brood of four kids, so much for romance. We actually went to watch the show. Oh God, it had come to that!

I have to say that after she agreed to marry me we still sat pretty close together in the car. I did notice though that we were still not as entangled as during the courtship stage. That was the beginning of the end. From that point on we grew further and further apart when it came to the front seat. At first the signs were subtle; inches separated us. As the years passed the gap became wider. I asked her once why she was so far away. “As a safety factor” she responded, “I noticed it’s harder for you to turn the wheel when I’m so close,” How come she never thought about our safety those many years ago when we were so young?

One thing I feel should be mentioned, we have learned that it isn’t necessary to be close to feel close. Despite anything I say about her, I like her, love her actually. There is a sense of closeness felt even with the gaps. I think she feels the same way. Why not, it is my ability to be loving, witty and tolerant of all her foibles that has drawn her close to me over these last 38 years. Her unconditional love is the direct result of my ability to roll with the marital punches. One might say I am special in that regard.

So, if you want to get a picture of how long a couple is married, or even if they are married, see how close they sit. Whether it is the car, the movies, dinners, walking down the street, or at a function, see how close they are. The closest she has been in years was last week. She moved her face very close to mine and whispered very quietly in my ear, “you need a breath mint.”

HER:

When we were going together he drove so fast that I slid across the seat to his side. If we did that now people would think we were sharing an oxygen tank. And what about the center console. Does he want me to sit on that, crush his CD collection, and poke my head through the sunroof? He just wants me closer so he can hear me better. Hell, we're close all the time. We sit right beside each other and watch television every night. He'll say, "Can you pass me the blood pressure medication?" And I say, "Sure, I'll trade you for the painkillers."

He loves looking at the past through a rose tinted rearview mirror. He still thinks his mother was a good cook. Since he insists on talking about what we don't do anymore, I'd like to add that I don't run my fingers through his hair these days-unless you count his arm.

When we were young we were crabby, and both determined to have our own way. We disagreed on everything. We argued about everything. We didn't like the same food, books, or movies. We were rugged individualists who hung in there long enough to become partners. For me, getting older is a gift, and sitting in the passenger seat is fine.

He hates getting older because now he can only work 16 hours a day before he gets a little winded. He frets about his memory. That man can remember who was on the Finance Committee in 1976. He's going to end up like his father who gardened practically until the end of his 90th year. God finally took him because it was unnatural having an old guy around with that kind of drive and energy. To his political enemies I say rid yourselves of your death fantasies-he's here for the long haul.

Since he's ripened a little, I like him better. When we were young, he got me really lousy presents. Now the kids guide him and I get some really good stuff. No woman wants to tell her friends she got a salad spinner for Valentine's Day…late.

The kids are amazed that their children like him. He tells them stupid jokes and makes animal noises at them. They all want to jump on Grampy's lap and hang with him. Animals love him. There's no dog on earth that can resist his cuddling and scratching under the neck. And you know what they say about kids and animals-they know who the good people are.

So we're an old dog and an old gray mare and we ain't what we used to be. Thank God.