The Secrets to Making Love Last

I’m no relationship expert.

But I do have experience.

Ron and I celebrated our 63rd wedding anniversary just before he died. When we walked down that aisle on a Sunday afternoon in September 1960, we had no idea what the future would bring. Looking back, I can truthfully say that walking that road together — through the summer, fall, and winter of our lives — was a great journey with no regrets.

So perhaps I can offer a little insight that might help those of you who are just beginning that journey, or those of you who are somewhere in the middle of it wondering if the hard parts are normal.

They are. I promise you they are.

Things Have Changed — But People Haven’t

Couples expect more from their marriages today than our parents’ generation did. My parents’ world was post-WWII, when women returned home after briefly tasting independence and men resumed their traditional roles without much discussion. Women of my generation had somewhat more freedom, but not much — the expected careers were secretary, teacher, or nurse.

Today women have genuine choices, and divorce, while always painful, is easier to survive practically speaking. And yet the fundamental human need — to be truly known and loved by one person over a long stretch of time — hasn’t changed at all.

So why do some couples navigate the hard times while others don’t?

There are many reasons of course. But I believe one of the most overlooked ones is how couples handle the quiet enemy of long relationships: boredom.

The Quiet Enemy

During courtship and the early years, couples overlook differences and small annoying habits that can later grow into genuine irritations. Boredom leads to taking each other for granted. Taking each other for granted leads to disappointment. And disappointment, left unattended, can spiral somewhere neither of you wants to go.

So what can you do to keep that from happening?

Start by keeping each other in mind during ordinary days. When you see a book by his favorite author, bring it home. Pick up a tin of her favorite tea just because. Did you share a box of Red Hots at the movies during your courting days? Surprise them with a box for no reason at all. It isn’t the gesture itself that matters — it’s the message underneath it: I was going about my day and I thought of you.

Remind yourself that all relationships go through seasons. You can love your spouse and find them deeply irritating at the same time. That’s not a sign something is wrong. It’s a sign you’re in a real relationship with a real human being.

Be careful with your words during difficult moments. I read early in my marriage that if you begin saying things like I hate you or I want a divorce in the heat of an argument, those words start to take on a life of their own. I believe that is true. Negative words spoken often enough become a story you start to believe.

When your partner is going through a hard time, offer what support you can — and then give them space to work through what is theirs to work through. You cannot carry everything for someone else. Focus on what you can control, which is your own steadiness and presence.

And remember always that men and women are different. They think differently. They need different things. What feels romantic to one person may feel completely unremarkable to another. Learn the language your partner speaks and speak it, even when it doesn’t come naturally.

The Stage Nobody Talks About

There are stages to every long relationship. The intoxicating early stage. The adjustment stage. The building-a-life-together stage. The navigating-hardship stage.

But the one nobody talks about enough is the friendship stage — the one that comes after you have weathered enough together that the need to perform or impress has completely dissolved. Where you have accepted each other’s differences not reluctantly but genuinely. Where you have stopped wishing the other person were slightly different and started appreciating exactly who they are.

Ron and I went through every stage any couple married this long will recognize. But I can tell you with complete certainty that the most satisfying one — the one I am most grateful we reached — was that quiet stage of deep acceptance. When you can sit in the same room without speaking and feel completely at home. When you can finish each other’s sentences and laugh at the same things and disagree about small matters without it meaning anything serious.

When you genuinely cannot imagine having made this journey with anyone else.

What I Know Now

Ron has been gone for over two years.

And what I know now that I couldn’t have articulated when he was here is this: the love of a long marriage doesn’t announce itself dramatically. It doesn’t look like the movies. It looks like a hand reached for in the dark. A cup of coffee made exactly right without being asked. A look across a room that contains  years of shared history in a single glance.

It looks like ordinary life, lived alongside someone who has chosen you again and again across every season.

We had 63 years of that. Not perfect years — real ones. Years with struggle and loss and disagreement and change and growth and laughter and the particular deep comfort of being truly known by another person.

I would not trade a single one of them.

If you are in the early chapters of your love story, be patient with the hard parts. They are not signs that you chose wrong. They are the material from which a real and lasting love is built.

And if you are somewhere in the middle, hold on. The quieter seasons ahead are the most precious ones.

Don’t wait to appreciate them.