Lazy W Marie

Carpeing all the diems in semi-rural Oklahoma...xoxo

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space to feel my feelings about Joc

My energy has been stalled for a few hours. I thought surely it was just from this spell of cold, dark weather. Or maybe from having a list of important but not very challenging tasks to finish today. Or maybe it’s the ambiguity of not being on a training plan right now. Some days I embrace my freedom and really squeeze a lot out of it. Other days, when I am low on motivation, the great openness is unnerving. I feel unmoored. Whether with fitness goals or caring for the farm or writing or anything, too much blank space can, well, stall me out. I guess I need to reestablish some structure, I think to myself, fill the calendar back up. Train for another marathon.

Then I noticed two prevailing trains of thought, both about Jocelyn.

One has surfaced almost every time lately when I get on the floor to cuddle Klaus, nearly every time we play outside: I am keenly aware that Jocelyn’s dog, Bridget, was a puppy when Klaus was a puppy. They were well acquainted then and even sometimes “corresponded” through the mail, when she and Joc first lived in Colorado. I see Klaus’ silver whiskers and ample belly, hear his gentlemanly groans and notice how his energy is so different now than it was nine years ago, and I cannot help but wonder what Bridget looks like now, how her energy is, what middle age looks like on such a strong and adventurous little woman. These are bittersweet imaginations, and I think maybe I can tilt that scale away from bitter, to mostly sweet. Maybe I can willfully conjure up how the reunion will soon look and feel. Bridget running in the grass towards us, no doubt carrying a rock for someone to throw. Retrieving rocks was once her favorite thing next to chasing bears off their cabin porch and stampeding behind deer up the mountain.

The second prevailing thought is much darker. I have been trying to silence a voice in my head that says, “She’s just not coming home. It’s been too long.” And I have no idea what to do with this, because it won’t stop. Hourly, at odd intervals, it just echoes. The actual words, typed out and spoken silenty in my head, are cruel enough. I don’t have to hear them to recoil. It makes me physically nauseated.

When people ask me if I have heard from her, the truth is awful. I have not. I sometimes hear updates about her, not from her. But I do appreciate hearing her name spoken. When noone asks, that hurts too. But I kind of understand why they don’t want to bring it up. When I see photos of her on my phone or her artwork around the farm, or even when I care for the horses she once loved so much, my god. Everything hurts so much. Sometimes it all serves to keep her “with us,” but right now it is terrifying. And complaining about this pain when so many people have lost their children forever, in undeniable and truly hopeless ways, feels so self indulgent and ridculous.

I still do have hope. Right?

Maybe these are just the emotions I have successfully avoided in all the previous months and years of being extremely busy and overcommitted. I probably was staying busy to not have to feel it all. Maybe this short season of loose schedules and low commitments have simply given my heart some space to unfold. Maybe this is what I have been feeling for a really long time, in other words, and none of it is a signal to any new and terrible thing happening. It’s not a prophetic warning, which is something else I fear; it’s just an emotional landscape finally visible because I have cleared some distractions. Is this a true psychological phenomenon, or have I invented it to make myself feel better? Does anyone know?

I tell myself again that this is just a season. A test. That one day we will be celebrating again, just as we have so many times already! And in that bright future, I will be ashamed to look back at any point before when I had given up hope (which is impossible to do with your children, actually) or indulged in sadness. So today, I’ll finish some work worth doing and get some exercise. I’ll bend some deliberate thought toward good things coming soon. And, because this feels like an instructive moment, I’ll be honest with myself about how I’m really doing: Not great. This is hard.

I love you so much, Joc. Nothing can change that.
I dream of you almost every night, and I talk to you all day, every day,
so much so, that I often trick myself into thinking you’re just across town
and could surprise me at the front door any minute.
I hope you are happy and being loved fully.
I hope you know that we are still here,
still loving and missing you.
XOXO

an unexpected source of Christmas magic

This past weekend our family lost our very special Aunt Marion. My sweet Mom lost her big sister. Everyone lost a truly unique and delicious life force.

We had been saying goodbye slowly and in ever more difficult ways for several months, but this final goodbye is hitting me harder than I expected it to. I knew it was coming, but I had not yet allowed myself to feel it. Our friend Trey shared this with me, and it’s perfect:

“We cannot think our way out of grief. We must feel our way out of grief.” ~Angie Corbett-Kuiper

On the surface, a death in the family at Christmastime seems incredibly morbid. Incongruent. And surely at some moments it has felt that way. But this slow, hard, gentle, unrelenting process, this steady spiral toward Aunt Marion’s passing, has produced some light, too. And isn’t Christmas all about light? Much of it has been miraculous for her and miraculous for all of us touched by her life and death.

Speaking just for myself now, it all has softened my heart in ways I was not ready to even admit I was hardened. It actually does feel like a transformation, and for this I am so thankful. Imagine Scrooge on that first Christmas morning when he felt loosed and wild with Love.

There is other Christmas magic here. We have been tasting it over and over again, in unexpected ways, when we allow ourselves to.

Christmas magic in Cathy’s joy to see her blown plastic Nativity set arranged for the first time, complete with a little wooden stable Rex built for her. A childhood dream come true. All women are little girls, all men are little boys, and we all still have access to that exact joy from childhood. Let’s help each other tap into it more often.

Christmas magic to see three granddaughters surround their Grandma in her grief, taking her to breakfast, sitting with her in the hospital, cuddling, helping with Hospice doctor conversations. Tending, loving gently, and just learning by feel the ways of being a family in these moments. How else do we learn it except by being part of it?

Christmas magic just walking around Chickasha, drenched in sparkling lights and the fragrance of hot cocoa and the patchwork of funny sweaters, hearing everyone’s favorite carols and hymns.

Christmas magic in quick and easy phone calls between our siblings group, just navigating the details, trying to be more useful than cumbersome to Mom and Dad.

Undeniable magic and poetry in six months of sobriety on the day of her passing, and all the connectedness in that story. We see magic in reconnecting with distnat family, too.

Christmas magic in Harrah’s small town parade, saying “Merry Christmas!!” to a few hundred strangers and neighbors, seeing all the kids excited for candy and the Batmobile and garland and inflatable reindeer. Surprising the adults with candy, too! So many warm smiles and hugs. So much genuine human warmth. Just the act of wishing someone, eye to eye, a Merry Christmas felt incredible. We were casting spells.

Our dear friend Mer has been playing Mrs. Claus at a weekend event in Oklaoma City. She shared that even the adults need some Christmas magic, and it has filled her heart to help provide it. I fully agree. The old adage is true, about lighting candles: You cannot spread a flame and lose your own. It just spreads.

So now, this week, all full up on this abundant Christmas magic, we are flowing mindfully between a variety of preparations. Preparing for Aunt Marion’s funeral service, then preparing for the holiday. And back again. Preparing in whatever ways we can imagine to just be available for Mom and Dad, staying engaged with traditions, staying engaged with our work and with each other. Finding gifts that will thrill our loved ones, then absorbing an old memory of some beautiful thing Aunt Marion did for one of us, sharing the ache that she won’t ever get to do that again.

We wrap presents not just in paper but in memory, each one a symbol of love, of recognition, of trying our best to show someone how much they matter. And sometimes, it’s the most whimsical gifts that speak the loudest—ones that carry a spark of joy and lightness, even in heavy moments. In that spirit, soufeel bobbleheads offer a playful, customized way to honor the people we love, whether it’s a goofy caricature of a sibling or a tribute that makes someone smile through tears.

These little figures become more than just decorations—they’re reminders of connection, of the humor and heart that bind us all together, especially when we need it most. We bake and make lists and read the Gospel of Luke, then we reflect on the choices that stole our family member and reflect even longer on her great beauty and all her many jaw dropping accomplishments.

Gifts don’t have to be elaborate to carry meaning; sometimes it’s the smaller, everyday tokens that resonate most because they weave themselves seamlessly into daily life. Practical yet personal items can become gentle reminders of love, offering comfort in moments when words fall short. That’s why something as simple as customized keychains in bulk can carry such significance—they serve as both functional keepsakes and symbols of connection, ensuring that each recipient holds onto a piece of thoughtfulness that travels with them everywhere.

In a season when absence is felt so keenly, these little gifts remind us that love still moves with us, tucked into pockets, held in hands, and carried quietly through the years.

In between? There are lights and there is music. And C.S. Lewis and cinnamon. Between the preparations, which all are just Love in action, is space and breath for magic.

Everywhere we look we see new expressions of Christmas magic, new life even in this time of death and grief. That is the miracle. I hope you can experience it, too.

We love you, Aunt Marion.
XOXO

we better just keep going

There is a sensation that reads somehow as both expansive and contractive. I am sure you know it, too. It’s the breathing in and breathing out of Life Itslef, the simple, sacred rhythm of just being.

We feel the coexistence of both joy and sorrow. We grow big and strong but make terrible mistakes. We have brand new, beautiful experiences that stretch us then some that humble us. We add to, subtract from, and constantly edit and polish ourselves and our lives so that, no matter how many patterns and routines we follow, no matter how many seasons we witness, nothing is ever exactly the same, not quite.

And it feels like it is happening all at once.

And all of this is exactly as it should be.

We are given this rich, lush, fascinating world meant to be explored and loved. We are given all these many, varied people, near and far, meant to be known and loved deeply. We are given animals and gardens to care for, work worth doing, communities worth building, experiemnts worth trying, and goals worth chasing, in order to… Well, I won’t pretend to know the exact purposes, but I do know without a doubt that it’s all an extravagant gift.

I am telling you this because it hit me right when I needed it most. I have been feeling like too many things in my life have been starved of the attention and energy they need, yet I am all the way depleted. Not much extra to give, you know? When I pulled back to see what’s been happening, I was so happy to remember that I just set different goals for a while. The chaos I have been feeling is the natural result of a life densely packed wth all the best things, and it’s okay. I know that it’s within my power to reorder things when the time comes.

With this deep breath of contenment in my body, I see no other way forward except to just keep going. Continue on in the mild chaos. Continue doing the work we find important and satisfying. Nurture the friendships we treausre. Chase the goals that make our mouths water, respecting the process regardless of the outcome. Cultivate the best things we can find in community. Make sure we are doing everything we can to construct a history we are proud and happy to reflect on later.

It will feel off balance plenty. It will feel weird often. But it will also feel victorious and hilarious and awe-inspiring! I’ll take it, all of it, thankyouverymuch, and all of it at once if the Universe continues to see fit to send it that way.

Keep on going, friends! We all need the particular flavors of chaos, disruption, and beauty you are creating.

“Don’t be fooled by the calendar; you only have as many days as you make use of.”
~Charles Richards
XOXOXO

friday 5 at the farm, straddling seasons

Hey friends, hello! How goes your passage of time? The clocks here, and the calendars, still refuse to slow down. We often catch ourselves looking up with bewildered expressions, asking each other what day it is, what year, and again for good measure, are you sure it’s already Thursday? Already September?

That cannot be right.

Thankfully the days and weeks are packed with work well executed and memories well crafted. We are buoyed by extravagant laughter and nourished by even more extravagant food. So, if time seems to be accelerating, at least we can feel sure that we have redeemed it all for the best treasures. I do think we have.

((hydrangeas fading into their autumnal glory))

Here are a few headlines, in classic Friday 5 at the Farm style:

ONE: Handsome’s birthday week was rock solid and glittering and, worth remembering forever, covered with a lavish mountain of hypoallergenic foam and sprinkled with disco lights. We first celebrated with our hilarious neighbors who donned shark and mermaid costumes just to make him laugh, then at his office with the Pubic Utilities Division (forever in our hearts), at a gala downtown (we sat alone at a table for twleve but had great fun together), in Bricktown with a small group of fun seeking friends (only one bone was broken), at the farm with even more friends (barn movie and FOAM), and daily, just the three of us, in as many small, sweet ways as we could manage. We even indulged in a double date night with Jess and Alex. Handsome reported feeling very loved and celebrated, which makes my heart happy. He is the engine that keeps so much in this world running and moving forward, and he certainly tends to give more than he receives. So at least at his birthday, I love seeing him spoiled rotten!

TWO: The middle seasons have begun their long, slow ceremony of changing guard. Summer is folding up her threadbare and wrinkled flag solemnly, advancing one measured step at a time toward Autumn, who yawns and rolls her shoulders, blinking without an agenda. She is ready but in no hurry. Autumn will steal no glory from Summer, because she knows that once we settle into her embrace we will not look back. We’re all a little tired. Still, the landscape still boasts more saturated color than muted. Flowers are still blooming. Tomatoes, basil, and eggplants are still offering us their final promises. And our air conditioner is still keeping the house cool and fresh, for a few more days at least. This is the in-between, the bridge, the weeks in Oklahoma when anything could happen and often does. I intend to absorb and enjoy the details as they come.

THREE: I remain deeply thankful for a farm full of healthy animals. Chanta and Dusty are thriving in their fatness and rippling muscles, good teeth and less troublesome hooves. The cows are enjoying their preordained romance, to the extreme most days, and have you heard that Scarlett has been sleeping in the wild coreopsis? Most mornings, if I do not hear her mooing early for breakfast, she is still asleep in that especially tall, thick patch of yellow flowers on the west side of the big barn. I will admit that we have not collected a fresh egg in over a month, but that might be due to the flock being free range and definitely prone to laying in strange places, like open vehicles and soft hay bales. I recently discovered a clutch of fifteen eggs in a deep hollow below some Mexican sunflowers. Tricky girls. Mike Meyers remains the reigning champ of happy splashes.

FOUR: Speaking of gardens, whew! For someone who talks about this a lot, I sure do not seem to have any idea what I am doing, ha! That extra long stretch of 100-plus weeks with no rain was challenging, but still so much survived. Our water pressure troubles have been resolved, and I am back to watering on a cautious rotation. We have more cooling on the forecast, too, which will bring tangible relief. Now the name of the game is taking stock of what is still full of good energy and then babying those plants with every trick in the book. Any blank space that comes from removing weeds and spent plants will be given the chance to host broccoli, spinach, lettuces, carrots, kale, pansies, and a few more fall treasures. For the next several weeks I will be busy with the school gardens too, so available time to play outside might be limited this season. We shall see. Really, everything is fine. Not the lush and productive garden she was in July, but still beautiful.

FIVE: I have been a glutton for great reading and listening lately. Recently, I finished off another Abraham Verghese novel, this time Cutting for Stone. His writing is one of the most mesmerizing and thirst quenching reading experiences you can give yourself. Please choose a title, any title, and let me know how much you love it. I also finished The Stand finally, after many decades of wondering if it was for me It is!! Oh man it is. Stephen King is a crowd favorite character writer for good reason. I had forgotten. Also loving some good marathoning podcasts lately, but maybe I’ll save that for an upcoming running update.

Okay, friends, listen. As if to underscore how quickly time passes, let me admit that I wrote this “Friday 5” post exactly 8 days ago, intending to share it with you last Friday. Since then, we have enjoyed refreshing cool weather and more hot weather. I found the energy to run sixteen miles, most of it with my dear friend Sheila, the longest run I have tackled in a while. Jess and I had an incredible garden clean up day at her house then another spontaneous day of baking something extraordinary, here at the farm. We are all working and playing and loving each other left and right, even with an unexpected handful of sick days for my husband. Life is good. Life is beautiful in every way. I really that the days are so full we have to consciously stop and look aroudn to see what we are doing.

Happiest Friday ever to you.
XOXOXO

the first 40 years are the hardest

ELOPE

On Friday, July 30, 1982, an incredible love story was written in stone. A 19 year old girl and a 24 year old boy skipped work and drove to Gainesville, Texas, to elope. They drove his brand new Ford F-150 pickup, his first ever new vehicle. The truck was brown with a cloth interior, the seats of which had recently- and dramatically- been peed on by the girl’s one year old daughter as soon as the baby was liberated from her diaper.

The boy wore jeans and a button up shirt, as was his custom. The girl wore a brown a-line skirt and a tan striped blouse. By midday they arrived at the Justice of the Peace, who himself was wearing jeans and boots. They finished the business of making their young love very official and drove promptly back to Oklahoma City. By 3 pm that same day, they were already back at the office supply store where they both worked and where, you might have guessed, they first met, just three months earlier. Despite their best efforts to keep this big decision a secret, the boy’s parents had easily guessed it. These two never missed work, you see, and their brief summer romance had been a whirlwind. Rex and Cathy became the Fridays. No one was surprised.

BUILD

Within their first year of marriage Rex and Cathy bought a piece of raw land in Choctaw, OK, which was then sparsely populated and largely undeveloped. They worked together with lots of help from family to clear the land and prepare the site for a house. They eventually built the house one length of lumber, one brick, and one appliance at a time, debt free. With one crucial exception, they stuck to their commitment to operate exclusively on cash, just chipping away at the plans, paycheck to paycheck, weekend to weekend. The exception was a loan early in the process from Ray Friday, Rex’s father, of two thousand dollars. It was to buy the land itself. He accepted monthly repayments of $100, and when the loan was fully satisfied he gifted the sum back to the kids. A windfall!

In this early chapter while they both worked full time jobs, raised baby Jen, and built their home, the Fridays lived in a trailer home first in a trailer park near Rex’s family and then on their own land. They had one other roommate, a kitchen mouse named Hercules.

The many family members who helped with construction were wildly skilled and experienced builders. They led the way in building in extra safety features and sound engineering. All these years since, Rex and Cathy have marveled at the house’s stubbornness against Oklahoma tornadoes and unusually efficient heating and cooling. Overbuilding was the way to go, even if it took extra time and effort.

In April of 1990, their long group project came to fruition. They had bought the land with a bit of borrowed cash but paid that off. Then they invested their paychecks slowly, spending at last count $25,000 to make their dream a reality. They furnished it with bare bones fixtures and were finally ready to move out of the trailer. Goodbye Hercules!

As they prepared to move, Rex told Cathy they could afford to buy exactly one large appliance for the kitchen, and she could choose either a dishwasher or a combination oven/stove. She wisely chose the dishwasher, noting in her brain that not only did she already own enough counter top appliances to make small meals happen but also that by November her Thanksgiving-loving husband would definitely want her to have a stove for preparing the feast. She was right. She ended that year with both appliances.

ADJUST

Married life was a big adjustment for both of these young people. Communal living among extended family in the trailer park meant more than a few surprise house guests for Cathy, though she did love them all. And Rex was accustomed to having his weekends free for hunting and fishing, which was a rub. Here, Cathy had expectations to be together as a family, especially on Sunday mornings. It took a while to strike a balance, but they did.

They encountered more specific friction, too. Like many couples, they had to navigate the choppy waters of money management, transparency, and control. And then there was the issue of hunting gear and little blonde haired babies.

Having never lived together before their elopement, Cathy was unpleasantly surprised to find their temporary home (Rex’s bachelor pad) was overflowing with not-baby-safe hunting and fishing gear. She discovered a gun rack full of guns, a compound bow already loaded with sharp arrows, a footlocker brimming with paper goods so that an overnight trip to the river was always an option, and much more. She took it upon herself to start removing the items that would be dangerous for Baby Jen. Rex was incensed. He strutted over to his Dad’s house to tell on her and gather some manly moral support along the lines of how dare she, only to learn that his Dad had a surprising perspective. He reminded his son that he had just married a woman with a baby and what did he expect then he suggested that Rex just “Suck it up.”

Since Baby Jen, cloth truck seats peed on and everything, had already won Rex’s heart fair and square, that adjustment quickly became family legend and not an obstacle at all.

Building a house wasn’t the only big project the Fridays tackled early in their marriage. Cathy had an ambition since childhood to be an accountant. Employing their already well proven sense of teamwork, she and Rex made it happen. They continued to work full time, shared the household and parental duties, and, again, paid cash for Cathy’s entire college experience. She completed the program at UCO one class at a time and had their families’ support and encouragement along the way. In fact Ray took some classes of his own during this time and walked the processional with Cathy when she received her diploma.

LEARN

It bears mentioning that Rex and Cathy credit all of their elders for a great many blessings in their marriage. “We had a lot of input!” Rex quips. Their parents and grandparents showed up over and over again. They provided practical, tangible help, certainly. They banded together and literally showed their boy and their girl how to build a house from the ground up. They modeled how to grow an expansive vegetable garden and graft fruit trees, how to sew and make repairs and maintain vehicles and preserve food, how to hunt and fish and cook excellent meals. You name it. The joke goes that Cathy’s Dad left his DNA on the bones of their house from so many small injuries inflicted during the build, ha! And to this day Cathy references her Grandma, as if she had just recently visited and shared some homemaking tips.

But perhaps more importantly than all of this, their elders taught their boy and their girl how to build a thriving union. Longevity in marriage runs in both families, as do strong Christian values. When Rex and Cathy reminisce, their eyes shine with love and appreciation for their mentors and guides. They clearly still feel the love of their extended family, even those already gone, and they know they are the beneficiaries of all their immense wisdom.

PRAY

A shared faith was important criteria for both of them before they married. They started off equally yoked in this way but young in God and had to give each other lots of space and time to grow. Along the way, life afforded them plenty opportunities to try their faith, strengthen it, and discover their gifts.

Forty two years later, Cathy describes her husband as the steady one, a man quick to respond to a moment of crisis by saying, “OK, here’s what we’re gonna do. Give me your hands. We’re gonna pray about it.” She adds, with shimmering eyes and a light shrug of her petite shoulders, “He’s the husband I need.”

When asked how he stays so calm and confident, Rex also shrugs but looks a little embarrassed. “It’s just there. God said the Holy Spirit is in you.”

Prayerful living helped them face numerous health challenges, extreme weather, job loss, and myriad financial problems. They recall a trip to Colorado when they had to replace tires unexpectedly. The $400 price tag was more than they could afford, but they had no choice. As soon as they got home, they discovered a surprise bonus from Rex’s job for exactly $400. They both say this kind of thing happened all the time.

No matter the obstacle or how scary the problem, Rex and Cathy said, “We just hit our knees and prayed about it.” In this agreement, they look into each other’s eyes, visibly wistful to scan their memories and feel, together, their safety. They had lean times, for sure, and even felt poor here and there. But they laugh about that and speak affectionately of summer sausages and clementines for their fancy hiking meal. “We never missed a meal or a payment.”

They are both servants at heart. They still attend Wilmont Baptist Church, the same place Rex has called home since he was a baby. They are active and emotionally invested in the community there, which this year celebrates its centennial anniversary! Over these four decades, Rex and Cathy have taught Sunday school, participated in Bible studies, helped with property maintenance, and played church-bench surrogate grandparents to countless kids. The children there flock to “Mr. Rex and Miss Cathy.” This summer, for the first time, the pair anted up to work as kitchen crew for a group of campers at Falls Creek. They made a thousand happy memories, collected many glowing reviews for their delicious food, and said they would definitely volunteer again. They came home absolutely exploding with stories about how much fun they had just watching the kids enjoy their playful summer and feel surrounded by God’s love.

ADVENTURE

With this strong foundation built, The Fridays were able to stack up years and years worth of adventure. Rex’s natural leaning toward the rugged outdoors and Cathy’s natural leaning toward her ruggedly handsome guy joined them at the hip for all kinds of fun.

“I just like being with him. I’m happiest when I’m with Rex, and that’s where he’s happy,” Cathy says playfully of her willingness to endure tent life.

It certainly helped this thrifty pair that Rex’s parents owned a small cabin in Colorado which served perfectly as home base for countless backpacking, rock climbing, and snow skiing trips.

Another advantage was that after securing her degree and CPA’s license, Cathy’s newly lucrative profession occasionally included paid travel. One such trip was to Ft. Lauderdale for a conference. Among all the top tier destinations they found over the years, Rex counts that trip among the best. It was his first time flying and his first time staying in a luxury resort. He was simmering in pride for his pretty young wife’s accomplishments, and to reward himself for marrying so well he feasted day and night on the all-you-can-eat soft serve ice cream. As Cathy tells it, Rex was the only hotel patron who brought his own fishing gear from home and trekked it through the marble floored lobby.

Always calling Choctaw home, the Fridays expanded their horizons way beyond Oklahoma, Colorado and Florida. In 1999, together with Rex’s brother Russ and his then wife Teresa, they earned their SCUBA certificates and used them in the Bahamas, for starters. On their first trip to St. John’s they caught and grilled fresh fish, swam with sharks, and developed new appreciation for well water at home after witnessing the offsite cistern water supply there.

In recent years they have shared their love of diving with their now sixteen year old grandson Jaxon, the apple of their eyes. The trio is known to visit the deepest lakes in Oklahoma to get in his dive hours when they can’t make it to the Caribbean.

During the pandemic shut down, Rex and Cathy bought kayaks and indulged in lots of quality time together on nearby water. Their default setting really is “outside and together” whenever possible.

COOPERATE

If you know Rex and Cathy personally, then you already appreciate their energetic influence, both as individuals and as a couple. Though honestly, it’s hard to imagine them as completely separate. They have created a beautiful rhythm, a way of bringing their full selves to the union that makes it greater than the sum of its parts. When asked how long it took to reach this kind of harmony, Rex answered in his classic deadpan tone, “Oh not too long. About forty years.”

While they stress the importance of having shared interests and doing most things together, Rex and Cathy do keep a few hobbies and travel ideas just for one person or the other. Big city destinations like NYC or even Eureka Springs are more Cathy’s speed, so she enjoys those trips with Jen, now grown, or her girlfriends. And while Rex can lure Cathy outdoors for lots of wilderness time, his appetite for it all is much greater than hers, so he carves out additional time on the calendar for hunting season, short fishing trips, and the like.

They seem to have arrived at this happy medium organically. Each person truly wants to see the other happy. They tied this understanding to household duties, too, and the division of labor, acknowledging that the seasons within a year can be very different, as can the seasons of life. You just remain fluid and respond to each other’s needs and fun ideas. As for the work, they don’t have strictly assigned duties. From year to year or week to week, they simply pitch in and do what they are best at. From the beginning they have been a solid team, and they know how to get it all done.

“It’s like you finally learn the steps to the dance,” Cathy says. “Early on you want to impress each other. It’s all so intense. Now it’s an easy flow. You really do become almost like one person.” Rex nods sweetly in agreement.

LAUGH

This positive, harmonious inertia, plus a hearty sense of humor, have proven to be super powers for this couple. Being able to laugh at themselves as well as at stressful situations has helped them stay happy and make excellent memories.

On a recent extreme hiking excursion in the backwaters between Minnesota and Canada, they were caught in a cold, torrential downpour. Everything was soaked or washing away. Rather than complain, they made it fun. Rex performed a fashion show of his forest-friendly rain gear, and Cathy videoed him, providing commentary.

Spend any amount of time with this pair and you will find yourself laughing until your stomach hurts. They know how to mine the moment for humor. They know how to squeeze joy out of every situation. And their smiles and laughter are contagious.

NURTURE

When they are not working hard or adventuring harder, their favorite date nights stay pretty simple. This has served them well. They like casual meals, specifically those that Cathy doesn’t have to cook, maybe swimming if their pool is open, and cuddling at home with their dogs, watching movies. They are both avid gardeners and super creative in their own ways. Rex grills steak like nobody else, Cathy could be a pastry chef, and they both put a premium on quality time. Cathy remembers plenty fancy outings to see a musical or an art show, which have been wonderful indulgences; but mostly she wants to be, “just curled up on a couch with him.”

They also devote plenty of energy to others. The Friday house is a frequent gathering spot for friends and family, especially around the holidays. They always pull out all the stops to make people feel extravagantly welcomed and cared for. Over the years Rex and Cathy have cultivated an understanding for what details make people feel loved, what makes them continue to come back for more despite the long drive to Choctaw, and how to create core memories.

After a tragic loss in Cathy’s family, they even served as caretakers for her brother’s young children. When they share memories from those years it is always with lightness and joy in their voices, a sense that it was all a gift to them, not a burden. They shared their richly textured life with their nieces and nephews as much as possible and now get to love on that generation’s young kids.

“Happiness is a choice you make. This is life. You can let it wear you down or you can find something to make you laugh and be happy.” They are neither blind to grief nor impervious to stress, but they have learned the importance of choosing their mindset.

When asked what makes each of them feel like they won the marriage lottery, Rex nods his head in thought and stretches comfortably in his chair. “When she talks ya’ up. When she talks good about you and always looks at the high side.” Cathy is smiling demurely at him while he answers. He adds, laughing, “Just hearing complaints about other spouses, ha!”

Her answer is not much different. She is nourished by words of affirmation and says how much she thrives on his compliments when she looks nice or when he expresses appreciation for anything she does. Cathy then gushes, “Rex can do so many things. It astounds me! So many skill sets. And he can calm me down.”

During most of this long conversation, it is worth noting, they answer questions while gazing at each other, exploring memory lane together, nearly oblivious to anyone else in the room asking the questions.

They know each other better than anyone else does and had a few thoughts on what they wish the outside world understood about their spouse.

Cathy says of Rex, “He’s really not so harsh or grumpy. He is such a good guy. Sometimes he comes across rough. I wish people could see the soft Rex, the way he is with kids.”

Rex believes Cathy is mostly an open book and that people probably do understand her. “I think they see her.” But he adds that he would like more people to know that she put herself through school and did it on her own (though she asserts it was a team effort). “She had ambition,” he stresses, still so proud of that big accomplishment all these years later.

SHARE

The Fridays benefitted so much from the loving surround of their families, and they accepted the guidance so willingly, it is no wonder that they feel the urge to now share that wisdom.

They both feel strongly that church should continue to be a priority in a marriage and that husband and wife should pray together. Cathy shared a memory of her grandpa’s Bible, so well read and worn out that it was held together with duct tape. They hope to share their deep and hard earned faith with the next generation.

They also hope to pass down a healthy sense of humor about life. Work hard but learn to laugh. “Be kind even when people are different. It costs zero dollars to be kind,” Cathy encourages.

Rex’s life experiences have been so greatly enriched by learning artisan crafts and skilled labor that he deeply wants kids in the next generation to learn to do more with their hands, and he takes every opportunity to share his knowledge. He hopes they choose to become more self reliant.

Some specific advice they share is to seek out friendships with other married couples, the happier the better. Be wise about friendships with single people as well as anyone who complains a lot. Rex observes, “Your friends… they can influence a lot around you.”

“There are going to be rough times. Learn to step away and cool off,” Cathy urges. Rex nods.

When asked what advice they would give their newlywed selves, Rex says, “Everything is going to be ok. Keep that hair you lost.”

And Cathy answers, “Money’s not everything. Sometimes the best memories are bologna sandwiches and peeing in a bucket!” Everyone laughs.

One final bit of advice which they share almost in unison: “Don’t be in such a hurry to get everything in life. Be happy. Learn to build slowly and pay with cash.”

DREAM

What’s next for this dynamic duo that skipped work on a Friday to elope, some forty two years ago? Well, Rex is one year deep in retirement now, and Cathy is counting the milliseconds until she can join him. Just three more tax seasons! They would consider another trip together to the backwaters near Canada (affectionately known at the BWCA) and will almost certainly take more tropical resort trips. In the mean time they are perfectly happy grilling steaks and taking their beloved dogs on walks, carving out family time, and laughing their heads off.

You will not find a harder working, more family-centered and devoted couple. You will not find another couple better balanced to each other or more chemically alive when they are in the same room. That is quite a bit of magic after forty years, and we wish them the happiest of anniversaries.

Why? Because they’ve EARNED THIS.*

Much love to you, friends.
The whoel world is better because of you.
XOXOXO

*inside joke lol