The average life expectancy of a person in the United States is 76.33 years. I don’t know how you feel, but that just doesn’t seem like a lot of time.
Both of my maternal grandparents lived well into their 80’s, and over 50 of those years they spent together.
We do not live in a time when people stick with things for very long. Boredom is the epidemic of the age. Mostly it’s because we are selfish people. Sounds harsh, I know. You know it’s true.
On average a person changes jobs 12.4 times between the ages of 18 to 24.
On average a person moves 11.4 times in their lifetime.
On average 42% of all marriages end in divorce.
These averages tell us something that I think we all know is true, and the sooner we admit them the more likely we will be to change them. We abandon ship the moment the ship fails to meet our needs. We don’t repair the sails, we replace them. We don’t patch the holes . We let the ship sink, cash in the insurance money, and buy a new one.
The truth is, the new ship is just as susceptible to torn sails and holes as the old one was.
I spent most of my childhood at my grandparents house. Almost every formidable memory I have was made there.
My Nanna was a saint, and I’m convinced that if anyone was to be taken to Heaven in a chariot it would have been her. She was classy. Regardless of the itinerary for the day, she fixed her hair and put on make up. I can still smell the hairspray she used, and her perfume.
My grandfather was a hard working man. He had rough hands. All of his pants were stained with dirt and grass. I do not recall a single moment that he didn’t have chewing tobacco in his mouth. He didn’t talk much.
When I was a kid I received one spanking from my grandmother. Back then we had to go into the yard and pick our switch. For you non-southern folk, a switch is a thin piece of tree branch that felt like fire ants when you were hit with it.
My grandfather wasn’t much for switches. He once chased my brother around the yard with a 2×4. I’m not sure what he did to deserve that, but thank the good Lord that he was fast on his feet.
I was 11 years old when my grandfather died, and 22 years old when my grandmother died. It seems impossible to interpret my memories of them together in the context of marriage.
They were very different people, with a very different outlook on the world. I never saw them hug or hold hands. I never saw them kiss each other goodnight.
What I did see is my grandmother care for him when Alzheimer’s took over. I saw her next to his death bed, ushering him out of this life into another.
I saw him work the ground to provide food for his family. I saw the house he worked to build. I saw a family gather around a table almost every night. A family he spent his life, sweat, and blood providing for.
When they were together, I didn’t know it then, but they were teaching me about marriage. They were teaching me that the holes are worth patching and the sails are worth fixing. The ship may take on a little water, and it’s a whole lot of work to keep it.
I always wondered how they made it through, but I get it now.
Sailing isn’t easy, but it sure beats sinking.
While newness is exciting I think what all of us really want is consistency in our lives. Maybe that is why we are so prone to move around, to change. What we don’t want to admit is that what we really want requires work, and nothing is more at war with our flesh than work.
76.33 years isn’t long at all.
Spend it how you want. I for one am learning how to repair sails and patch holes.
This might be interesting 