ONLY  IN  THE  MOVIES

He began to cry as he told me his story.

“It's been 10 years -- 10 years -- since we held each other!”

I remained quiet. Obviously, he needed someone to listen to him.

He went on, “But I haven't given up. I keep on hoping. I keep on trying to reach her with my love.”

After a long pause he said, “And all she ever says is, `We're too old for that. We're too old for that.'“ He reached down and held my wrist and whispered to me, “I tell her, `I don't want to rape you. All I want to do is hold you. Don't you know I love you.'“

I sat there quietly.

“The other day,” he continued, “we saw an old couple in the shopping center. They were walking in front of us holding hands. I said to my wife, `Look at them! Isn't that beautiful?' Her answer was the usual, `That only happens in the movies!'" He smiled at me for a moment and said, “What do you answer to that? `It only happens in the movies!' That's her answer every time.”

I didn't know what to say. In fact both of us became quiet. Our plane moved along quietly on its way to Florida. I was heading for Jacksonville to preach. He was heading home to Sarasota to his wife.

I asked how old he and his wife were.

“She's 65 and I'm 67.” Then he went on, “She moved out of our bedroom about 10 years ago. That was the killer and I didn't even snore. I didn't fight back. I became quiet. For a whole year I couldn't sleep. I tossed and turned -- and kept hearing the words of our marriage vows, `to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part.'“

The flight attendants were getting closer with beverages and dinner, so we both became quieter. He blew his nose and I think wiped some more tears from his eyes.

“I bought her a beautiful card for Christmas to tell her how much I love her -- but it didn't help. And I'm the type that always gave her flowers for our anniversary -- 41 years straight -- but they never seemed to impress her after the first time. I suppose she just stopped being a wife once she became a mother!”

That last remark made me nervous. The pain and the poison in his gut began reaching his lips. Luckily, just then our dinner arrived. Everything was nice and neat -- packaged -- perfectly organized. All kinds of ideas and questions about the man and his wife were bouncing around in my mind. I would like to give him nice, neat packaged advice that could help both of them to rise out of their “dead” marriage or whatever you would call their situation.

I didn't. I sat there during the meal realizing that I just didn't know what it was like to be in my 60's and to be married.

During the moments of silence a beautiful experience I had a few years back came to mind. It was the 50th Wedding Anniversary Mass for a couple I knew. When it came to the renewal of their marriage vows, the wife said, “I do.” But as she said that, she must have realized that was not enough. With a sparkle in her eye, she burst out loudly, “I do! I do!” And she began shaking his ring hand with both her hands. All of us in the church heard it and laughed. A few people even started to clap -- but then stopped -- as they realized the moment was too sacred for that. That moment was a special grace to all of us from that couple.

But what about this man and his wife? I began to wonder was it too late for their marriage to be improved? How long would it take to sort out 41 years of marriage and the stories and the background of their lives? Did they ever do it before? Could they pray together for their marriage to be healed? Could they hold each other and say, “I'm sorry!” Or would she say, “That only happens in the movies?”

I sat there lost in his pain and the questions that were erupting in me. He broke the silence with a comment about the dinner. Then he added how lucky we were to be heading to the warmth of Florida in February.

Just then the pilot announced that we were nearing Jacksonville. He asked that those who were going through to Sarasota stay on the plane.

I looked at the man and said that I wished I could help him and his wife with their problems. “I wish I had a magic formula that would take all your troubles away.”

He smiled and said, “Relax, Father, thanks, but just keep us in your prayers. And thanks for listening. Don't worry that you didn't solve my problems with my wife. Things don't get solved that easily. That only happens in the movies.”

Father Andy Costello, C.SS.R.

Liguorian Magazine