59

I don't often see them holding hands, but here they are with hands firmly clasped.

It's difficult to get a good picture of them both. Mom has a tendency to have a sneaky, "I've-got-a-secret" look, and despite his outrageous sense of humor, it's tough to catch Dad with a good smile.

They've been married for 59 years. 59! 

Both of them tell me that they've had a good life. They have good friends. They've been able to travel the world. And of course, they have two wonderful children and two amazing grandsons. Yes, a good life. It hasn't been perfect - there has been illness and trouble - but they both agree, it has been a good life.

Now they are living the "in sickness" and the "for worse" part of marriage.

Dad's heart is failing. Exhaustion and profound fatigue slowly steal him from us.

Mom cares for him diligently and with grace. She keeps track of all the appointments and guards him from doing too much. She helps him dress in the morning (he insists on putting shoes on, then trousers - it's his lifelong habit.) She puts him to bed at night. (It's princess-and-the-pea-like: position just so, covers just so, and every night, what-channel-to-watch-on-TV). And when he landed in the hospital last week, she did the hospital sit, day after day, filling the time with cheerful conversation. 

Post-hospital, she visits him daily at the health center because he is too weak to return home. There is therapy in an effort to get him strong enough to come home. Even then they will still need help.

Mom doesn't complain, ever. She said she promised not to cry in front of him because it's hard enough for him right now. But yesterday, it happened. She cried.

And when it did, he took her hand and said, "Oh honey, we'll get through this."

59 years.