May 24th

May 24th is a special day, not just for Gary and me, but for our family. Had it not been for what took place on May 24th, our three children wouldn’t be here.

In the absence of our children, the spouses of our two married kids would be committed to someone else. Or perhaps they would be single.

Without our children’s unions, our baby grands would not be crawling and toddling around and making us laugh over and over and over again.

On this May 24th, Gary and I are at the point in our lives when scrolling through documents to find our birth year could cause a thumb sprain. We have lived under the same roof waaayyyy longer than we lived with our parents. Together, we’ve written an insignificant history that means something to us.

May 24th may have meaning to various people for different reasons. On May 24, 1883, the architectural wonder called the Brooklyn Bridge opened, traversing the East River to connect Brooklyn to Manhattan.

Today, more than 100,000 vehicles, 4,000 pedestrians, and 2600 bicycles cross the bridge daily. I wonder how many singles would not have become couples had the Brooklyn Bridge not been constructed.

Bob Dylan was born May 24,1941 in Duluth, Minnesota. Had both sets of his grandparents decided not to emigrate to the United States (in 1902 and 1905), his parents probably would not have found each other.

Had that hypothetical situation played out in real life, Robert Allen Zimmerman, who became Bob Dylan, would not have been born. The music that wasn’t written by the Dylan who did not exist would not have inspired numerous musical artists then or now.

From a fan’s standpoint, think of a world without “Blowin’ in the Wind,” “Mr. Tambourine Man,” “Like a Rolling Stone,” and “Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door.”

On the flip side, R&B icon Tina Turner died at age 83 on May 24, 2023. The electric voice behind “What’s Love Got to Do with It,” “Private Dancer,” and “We Don’t Need Another Hero” entertained crowds for 65 years.

In 1938, on—you guessed it—May 24th, a patent was granted to Oklahoma lawyer/publisher Carl Magee for the first coin-operated parking meter. He came up with the idea after local merchants complained about the same cars monopolizing parking spaces day in and day out, causing low sales.

Magee was born on January 5, 1872, and I don’t wish it otherwise. But, gee, Magee, I wish he had invented something else.

On May 24th (1994), the four men responsible for bombing the World Trade Center were each sentenced to 240 years in prison. In 1830, the first line of the B&O Railroad opened.

Irish author William Trevor was born on May 24, 1928. Major League Baseball held its first night game in Cincinnati when the Reds beat the Phillies, 2-1 (1935).

Still, May 24th might just be another random day to you. But not to me.

May 24th is the day my dad walked me down the aisle and put my hand (and his trust) in Gary’s.

Gary could have let doubts, probably many, turn his car around. I could have swapped my heels for tennis shoes and sprinted out of the church.

But we showed up.

Had Gary and I not found our way to the Baptist Temple in Fairmont on that May 24th, 100 or so years ago, there would be no “us.”  Yes, there would still be a “he,” and I would be me. But trust me when I say, we’re much stronger, smarter, and way more fun as “we.”

Challenge accepted

As I walked to register #4 at a Home Goods store, the clerk offered to sign me up for a credit card.

“You’ll save an extra 30% on your purchases today if you apply for our credit card,” she said. “It will only take a minute to get approved.”

Tempting…but no.

“I appreciate the offer, but if I want to stay married. I must decline,” I said.

I went on to explain that my husband is not a fan of credit cards. Gary says companies make credit cards the same shape and size as gift cards to tempt us to believe we don’t have to pay them back.

I didn’t go into that with the clerk.

Instead, I said, “We’ve been married for at least 100 years. If I’m forced to choose between a credit card and my life history, I’ll hang on to my history.”

It’s one of the many reasons that divorce is not an option for us.

History.

Gary has been an integral part of my life and my family since we were 17 years old. If I cancel him or he cancels me, we’re wiping out a ton of years full of a lifetime of memories.

My youngest brother has zero recollection of life without Gary. He was six when Gary and I started dating.

Another reason divorce is not an option for me is, well, because I’m lazy.

No way am I up to the task of editing Gary out of 100 years of pictures. As for the myriad family photo albums we have scattered about, it took a lot of time to put those together.

Several years ago, I noticed the spine had separated on an album that belonged to my parents, and the photos inside were beginning to fade. My sister-in-law and I transferred the pictures onto quality, nonstick pages in a new album.

The job was time-consuming, but a labor of love. I’m happy we did it, but I don’t want to do it again, and I doubt my sister-in-law would help me this go around.

Selfishness is another reason I can’t get a credit card and give Gary a reason to divorce me.

Who else would remind me that where I stand or sit has no bearing on the outcomes of WVU basketball and football games?

Who else would say, “Sure,” when I tell him, “My seesta-girlfriends are coming to stay for the weekend?”

Who else would clean my car windows before I go on a road trip, make dinner when I work late, or watch an infant baby grand—change diapers, etc.—while I go to tennis practice?

Distribution of property after 100 years of marriage would be a big, as in HUGE problem—another reason we’ll just have to put up with each other.

Besides our cars and clothes (No way will Gary fight for my dresses), the rest would be a muddled mess. I’d probably claim everything belongs to me, and he would let me have it all.

Afterward, a load of guilt would take me prisoner. I don’t care to spend the rest of my life with a raincloud over my head.

The biggest reason my husband and I can’t spit up is a conversation that happened years ago—two weeks before our wedding day.

I was with an unnamed someone who knew us well.

“You shouldn’t marry Gary,” she said. “He has never dated anyone else. He will not be true to you.”

I laughed when I shared the exchange with my husband-to-be. We had turned twenty in April, ignored that tidbit of advice, and married in May.

On our most recent anniversary, Gary said, “I think we should send (she who will not be named) a thank you card.”

The note would read, “Challenge accepted.” 

No new credit cards for me.