Love & Bacon: Learning the secret of wife

The old man’s face had more lines on it than a New York City road map. He sat at the oak kitchen table, watching the love of his life make her breakfast. The light from the sunrise was making her face glow. It shaved off 50 years, making her look like the beauty she was on the day they married. She scrambled her eggs in the bowl. Even after fifty years, she was stunningly beautiful. He grinned like he was up to no good.

He used to be the most selfish man in the world. Ask any woman he ever dated. He laughed. Time and mistakes had worn down his rough edges like water smooths a stone. And love. Love — A verb, not a noun. But he didn’t know that in the beginning. He thought he could just say the word and that would be enough. His stupidity had run off two women who got fed up with his selfishness.

Then he met her. She was a force of nature. Eyes as blue as glaciers. A temper like a Cat. 5 hurricane. But she was the most grounded person he had ever met. Fifty years ago, they said “I do.” He was lucky that day. He was lucky today. But there were rough days in between.

All marriages are like the weather — There are beautiful days and there are storms. Many of the storms were brought on by them being selfish. And much of that selfishness came from the fact that he misunderstood what love was. It was more than a word. A hug. It was an small, tender action. It was seeing that she needed help with the kids. That she was overwhelmed. He had to learn how to anticipate what she needed and preemptively solve it. She needed to see him trying. That was a hard lesson for him to learn. One that caused trust to be eroded. There were many nights of blank stares and silent storms.

He took a sip of coffee as he watched her fry the bacon. Bacon. He couldn’t have any because of his heart, but that was OK. Everything goes better with bacon.Their marriage included.

He could have filled a book with his mistakes. But he was a much wiser man now. It had taken years to rebuild their relationship. And it wasn’t easy. But it was a choice they both made. Not just for the kids. But for themselves. They had seen too many people stay married and remain miserable. They were committed to the institution of marriage — and that institution meant working at theirs. Love was a verb. A verb that brought trust. And trust created a bond that made them inseparable. A marriage based on words could be easily broken.

The old men at the coffee club teased him. They said he was whipped. But they weren’t as happy as he was. And at the end of the day, that made life worth living.

He took one more sip of his decaf and realized that “I do” wasn’t just two words. It was a lifetime of action. He continued to find new ways to do for her. He had learned the secret of wife.

He looked at the love of his life, ate his bran cereal and planned how he could steal a piece of bacon when she wasn’t looking. Everything was better with bacon.