In Praise of Rosemary – in Praise of Marriage

I thought I’d take a weeks break from the current series “Towards a Theology of Personal Development” to mark a milestone birthday for Rosemary, the love of my life, who turned 70 on Monday. Actually, it isn’t really a break, for nothing develops you in quite the same way as love and marriage – and in a few months we will have been married for 45 years. When I say that, people often congratulate me and I never really understand it. After all, we congratulate people on achieving things that are difficult, or have required great effort, but this has been effortless – first years, then decades, slipping contentedly by. At our marriage ceremony we committed ourselves to each other “til death us do part”. It remains the only shadow on the horizon, though given that Rosemary’s mother lived to 100, I’m hopeful (perhaps selfishly) that she is the one who will have to face that day, not me. However, as she is two years older, there is no knowing…

In what way has Rosemary (and marriage) developed me?

I was 23 when I got married and had no idea how selfish I was. There you go, I have said it. I would not have thought it before, but when you are married you are forced to face how far you will push for your own way. And though Rosemary and I agree on about 90% of things, that still leaves 10%. Negotiation is a fine art, and at times it can become a tad heated.

I remember our first major argument. Our initial home was a small (but pleasant) two bedroom apartment in Port Elizabeth. The second bedroom was to double as a guest room and study. I spoke about the bookcase I planned to purchase to house our books (well, largely mine). “There is no space for a bookcase,” Rosemary announced in a “case closed” way. “What do you mean there is no space?” I objected. “There is plenty of room. And where else do you think the books will go?” “You can put them in the upper shelf of the cupboard. That will take less room and they won’t gather dust there.” “They will also be totally inaccessible,” I objected in disbelief. “Nonsense. You are not 90. You can easily reach them. Just lay them out sensibly and it will work like a dream,” she countered.

And so it continued. Who won? Well I sort of did (and seriously, who packs books in a cupboard?), but only because I conceded to her colour preference for the room’s curtains, allowed her the covered parking for her car, and agreed to her choice of dinner that night. It was a costly victory!

Actually, that’s about as bad as it has got. There was another close contender. We were seriously short of cash but had decided to splash out on some fillet steak for dinner. Just the thought of it made me salivate. Rosemary had gone off to buy it, and to send a parcel at the postoffice. She came back ashen faced. “I don’t know how to say this,” she said. “I’ve lost the steak! I might have posted it with the parcel. Half way home I realised I didn’t have it. I went straight back to the postoffice. It wasn’t there. I asked everyone. It’s gone. I’m so sorry.” Some pretty dark thoughts passed through my mind as I contemplated another evening of “Toppers” for dinner – a decidedly dreary (but super cheap) dehydrated soy mince dish we were reduced to when our budget was blown. Ah well – we survived!

Of course those are two of my “Rosemary” stories. She has a far larger assortment of “Brian” stories – but she’s not writing this account, so all is well.

What do I love about Rosemary? She is genuinely unselfish, ferociously loyal, totally committed, instinctively kind, deeply curious about some things (and surprisingly uninterested in others – she still hasn’t read my PhD), accomodating, humorous, ridiculously talented (always in a completely understated way – have you seen her artwork?), courageous, unbelievably hard working, and so very beautiful (can you believe she is 70?). She has also taught me a lot about prayer (when she is super serious, she backs prayer with a chocolate fast), and has a faith that is unswerving, practical, compassionate and infectious.

In the early years of our marriage she was a lecturer in Nursing – first at the University of Port Elizabeth, then the University of Cape Town. I think our best decision was to have children, though it wasn’t one she was initially convinced about. First, she wasn’t sure she would be a good mother (she’s an awesome mother and grandmother), second, she loved her career, and there was a great academic future ahead of her, but she wasn’t sure she could juggle being an academic, mother and pastor’s wife (and back in the 80’s, being a pastor’s wife carried many unofficial and largely unacknowledged duties). We had children (and never regretted it), but she said goodbye to academia. She did however go back to nursing – and carved out a fulfilling career that included many specialist roles. She was classified as a “clinical nurse” when she retired just a few months short of the 50th anniversary of her starting as a student nurse at Addington Hospital in Durban.

And now she is 70. We have made a home together in 3 countries and have pastored 4 churches. She has been the “principal’s wife” at two theological colleges, has raised 3 amazing children, is Granny Rose to 4 adoring grandchildren – and is wife to Brian. Yes, she is 70, and more loved than ever. Happy birthday Rosemary.

Nice chatting…

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