Bookends on Fifty-Four Years

Fifty four years ago I was newly married, and I couldn't stop admiring my shiny gold wedding band.  I wasn't a diamond girl even then.  We were living in one room which was one-half of a garage with a 4x4 foot bathroom.  The bathroom was a concrete pad with a drain in the middle of the floor.  There was a diagonal shower curtain - shower on one side, toilet on the other.  There was one sink, and it WASN'T in the bathroom.  It was either the kitchen sink if I was cooking, or the bathroom sink if Drake was shaving, or we were brushing our teeth. 

There was a lumpy double bed, and the curtains blew winter and summer.  We didn't own a fan; the windows were drafty.  There was, however, a full time traffic cop:  Crazy Betty, the alcoholic owner of this palace, was obsessed with two things:  Her cat, Peaches, and monitoring who parked where.  I think her obsession with parked cars was really about being nosy.  She loved to come into our apartment (yes, she had the audacity to call 1/2 of a garage an apartment) when we weren't there.  

That's how we met our dear friend Rick - he seemed so old, being all of 23 to our 19.  He had just gotten out of the Army, and for the first three weeks of the month he had money courtesy of the G.I. Bill.  I knocked on his door to tell him the landlady was coming into his apartment when he was gone.  She used the pretext of putting salt down the toilet.  54 years later, and I still can't figure that one out.  Crazy Betty's abode was proof that students will live in anything.  At least our half of the garage didn't have mushrooms growing under the bed.  I don't think they were edible.

We were so terribly in love that year.  In love as you can only be when 'real life' hasn't interfered yet.  We spent every hour together except when we were in class, and we even took some classes together.  Our one room apartment was not in the least soundproofed - can you imagine how much you can hear when there's sheetrock nailed to studs?  Insulation?  Don't make me laugh.  I will always be grateful that Rick pretended to be deaf, and he was silent as well while we explored our newfound sexuality.

Fast forward 54 years.  We just bought, what will in all probability, be our last house.  From Arizona, it was hard to gage how long it would take to buy a house.  Then, when we bought one, we didn't know how long it would really take to remodel the one we bought.  In order to get out of $165 a night hotel bill, we moved into our new house while it was (is) still being remodeled.  Currently, we are living in one room with a bathroom attached.  There are some significant differences between now and 54 years ago.

Instead of a lumpy double bed, we have a new king sized adjustable bed.  The windows aren't drafty, and the bathroom is considerably more luxurious.  We are sans kitchen, so we are making do with only eating breakfast here, and ordering in dinner.  I was smart enough to move the 22 year old fridge to the garage.  

What has happened in this updated version of our Crazy Betty apartment is I've remembered how happy I was then and am now.  Spending all this time with Drake as we've traversed the country on our last gigantic road trip, as well as living in one room has rekindled those early feelings of being so intensely in love with a difference.  Now, the feelings are so much deeper and more complex after having spent a lifetime together. 

As we moved through our life, we always told one another that we could be happy again in one room.  I'm here to testify; it's true.