by Paul Simonetti

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After almost 50 years of marriage, I often wonder what lies ahead for my spouse and me in the next dozen or so years. Unless we both get hit by that proverbial truck, it is likely that one of us will precede the other into the spiritual world, leaving the other behind for a time. Will the survivor have regrets about the way he or she treated their spouse? If I am the one who survives, what will I say to myself about what I should have done differently? Perhaps I should have been kinder; we should have spent more quality time together; I should have worked less and been home more; I should have shown my love for her in countless ways; I should have appreciated her more; I should have honored her for the amazing person she is, and told her so in words and action; and on and on. Eternity has a way of putting things into perspective.

The secret is to remember our eternity while still in the here and now of this world. If we can keep reminding ourselves to do this, a lot of petty things will melt away. I won't get so upset the next time she leaves the lid off the peanut butter jar; or forgets to turn off the closet light in our bedroom; or drops her coat on the floor and rushes to the bathroom when we get home from an outing; when we disagree about the way to load the dishwasher. You have heard the expression: "Think globally; act locally." I would like to propose that we "Think from eternity and act in the here and now." If we really keep this idea in mind — whatever our age; however long we have been married — our actions and words will inevitably be kinder, and more loving, more helpful and less critical.

When that time comes when the one you love leaves you here, if indeed that's the way it happens, would it not be wonderful to have fewer regrets. To say in ones heart: I loved her as much as I could and I honored and respected her for that child of God she was and will be to eternity; I am privileged to have shared that brief life with her on this planet. The words to "September Song" come to mind: "Oh, the days dwindle down to precious few, September, November. And these few precious days I'll spend with you. These precious days I'll spend with you."