Fly Me to the Moon

To a house divided and a marriage that keeps going bump in the night

"It's a very flavorful part of our marriage," he said. "I often think of guys who go home to their wives who go, 'Yes, dear' and they agree on everything. I don't know. It's so strange. We argue. And we argue. Not about religion, mostly about politics. And we swear we're not going to do it, but then the next day's paper comes."

On New Year's Day, I set up a video camera and sat them down at their dining room table to ask them about their lives. She wore a Pioneer Press sweatshirt, he wore a blue sweater. She sat with her hands folded in front of her and laughed at everything he said. He played with a Hershey's Kiss that was sitting on the table and joked that I wanted to get them on tape because I think they're going to die soon.

He's a smart son of a gun. Years from now I will look at that tape, as I did the other night, and I'll cue it up to the part where he tears up talking about his definition of love ("Coming in that driveway and seeing her in the kitchen window"), and I will remember the night a couple of months ago, when I went over to their house to watch Punch Drunk Love with him, and, just as I was going into the kitchen to get something to drink, I saw him kiss her goodnight, turned away because it felt sacred, and it will give me a shot in the arm and something to shoot for.

"I can remember times being very sad that that newness is gone, because it's so precious," she said. "Now there's such a peacefulness. It doesn't compare with the newness. They're both wonderful. The middle times were much harder, because we were so busy and there were so many people to care for. And to have this at the end of the road--to be alone together..."

"...It's fun," he said, twirling the Hershey's Kiss like a top.

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