A friend's mother died last week. An only child, he would have been alone in sitting with her as she slipped away and in dealing with her death. But he wasn't. He's married to a wonderful woman who provided help and love during all of it. Being married softens the blow of our low points.
It also enhances our high points. Last week, my husband, Ed, celebrated his birthday by taking his first flying lesson. He's wanted to fly for 40 years or more. He'd crossed many obstacles to reach this starting point. I went along. Shot 75 pictures to capture every bit of it. Watched him learn to do the pre-flight check. Stood there with tears in my eyes as he started up the plane lights and then the propeller and began down the taxiway. Cheered as the wheels left the ground.
My eyes welled up again as he hopped out of the plane and posed by it, all grins, for my final snapshot. When I proposed a celebration at a local restaurant, he agreed in an instant. We smiled at each other through the last bit of dessert. Then we relived the experience with the photos. It had been an unforgettable high point for both of us.