Today makes #53.

My parents, aka Nana and Pawpaw, were married on June 2, 1972 at 8:00 pm. 

My mother’s family had a dairy farm, and cows don’t easily reschedule their milking times. The wedding couldn’t start until her father and the other farm hands had completed the necessary chores of farm life.

The way the story goes, it was a hectic day, and no one had eaten much. The reception afterward was at my mother’s parents’ home, where the menu consisted of mixed nuts, butter mints, white cake, and some flavor of mystery punch, lost to the sands of time.

And you know how weddings usually go: from welcoming guests in the receiving line, to taking the required photographs, all while running on wedding-day nerves, the last ones to eat are often the bride and groom.

“They didn’t even fix us cake to go!” my mother remembers. “All I had was a bite of cake and a sip of punch for pictures!”

No pigs in a blanket. No sausage balls. No saucy meatballs. No ham and cheese sliders. Is it a wedding or a tailgate? No matter, because that kind of food works for any special occasion in rural north Alabama. Food is one of our love languages, and if the table is loaded with those things, you can be sure it will be an outstanding reception. 

Unless you belong to the country club, and then you might pull out the real plates for a four-course sit-down affair.

Then again, I guess my parents had a four-course dinner at their reception. They just didn’t get to enjoy it. The nuts-mints-cake-punch combination was still the thing to do by the time I came along and was old enough to remember wedding receptions, and I thought it was glorious: unlimited chunks of icing and high-powered fruity drinks!

Non-alcoholic, people. We were staunch Baptists. Let the Methodists be the ones to imbibe, those party animals, but even they wouldn’t spike the punch bowl at an event where children were present. Dancing was not allowed either, but the sugar high was pretty cool.

But by the time my folks made it to the Holiday Inn for their wedding night, they were weak and ravenous. It was late and restaurants were closed. They scrounged for change and found a vending machine.

“Peanut butter crackers and Coca-Colas,” my dad remembers. “That was the wedding night meal.”

And so began their wedded bliss. 

I had the blessed privilege of going to not one, but two weddings this weekend, and I saw some very young couples get hitched. They’re practically still in their Pampers.

Extensive counseling should be required of all young couples who endeavor to enter into the marital bond, and part of that ought to be taking notes from couples who have made it 50+ years. In fact, let’s go ahead and just have a newlywed boot camp where our young, unseasoned duo spends an entire week with two old farts who have figured out how it’s done. 

What would they see in a week’s time at Nana and Pawpaw’s house? 

1. Working together, growing a garden, mowing the yard as a team. Doing things as a pair makes the work lighter, unless Nana is weedeating, and then Pawpaw would have to put on more string before he finishes the job himself. (Sorry, Nana, you know it’s true.)

2. Naptime. Daily rest. Weekend rest. They work hard, and they rest hard.
3. But not always together. When you get older, you learn that sleep is more important than a lot of other “activities” married couples do in bed. Snoring, jumpy legs, aches and pains, and multiple middle-of-the-night pee breaks make it ok to have your own space for sleeping. Live and let live, and don’t try to change your mate. You can find a way to come together for any other “activities,” but protect your sacred sleep.

4. Stories, laughter, more stories. Their faces are not always in their phones, although they do appreciate TikTok. In fact, if they started posting their own videos, they’d go viral. The things that go on behind closed doors at Nana and Pawpaw’s house would rival and soon exceed that of all the other Boomers cashing in on TikTok. I keep telling them there’s money to be made, but speaking of money . . . 

5. They budget, and they stick with it. They’re not going to fuss about money. They both grew up in households where they ate butterbeans and cornbread regularly, and they still do. You’re not going to be eating out much with Nana and Pawpaw, but when you do . . .

6. Count on Captain D’s. They broke their COVID no-restaurant fast at the “great little seafood place,” of all places. During the height of pandemic, they stayed home and did what they did best: grew their garden, washed their dishes, took care of the pets, and loved each other.

7. They also take care of others. When the garden comes in, it’s more than the two of them and the rest of the family can enjoy, so what do they do? They hit the road, delivering tomatoes, okra, and squash to neighbors and friends. Nana’s homemade banana puddings are world-famous (if she’d do a TikTok on how she makes them), but what’s even better is that she and Pawpaw deliver them to families for funerals, for sicknesses, or just to say, I’m thinking of you.

That’s probably quite enough lessons for our young couple, who, after a week of marital boot camp with Nana and Pawpaw, would be better prepared to enter into the covenant of marriage.

And oh, our young couple would also see Bible reading. They would go with Nana and Pawpaw to church on Sunday and maybe even sing in the choir. But all the theological lessons in the world don’t fully prepare you for a cancer diagnosis, for a wife who refused to shave her hair off when she started losing it after chemo.

There was hair everywhere, Pawpaw had told me. He just cleaned it up. 

After all, that’s how it’s done.

Newlyweds, I hope you’re taking notes. So can the rest of you who’ve been married long enough that you clip your toenails in front of each other.

Staying together is worth it. I think Nana and Pawpaw would agree.

But there is one more lesson to be learned from our not always, but mostly happily married couple of 53 years:

Take your own snacks. The cooler is always packed with Coca-Colas and peanut butter crackers, if they’re leaving the house for longer than a two-hour period of time.

Honestly, I don’t think they ever got out of the honeymoon period.