Going For Gold

My sisters and I are throwing a party for my parents in a few weeks. They are celebrating their 50th wedding anniversary.  

I am looking through hundreds of photos because we thought it would be nice to have a slide show going in one corner of the reception hall (for optional viewing of course; nothing kills a party like a mandated slide show).  I have been struck by how difficult it is to find photos of the two of them together. Of course, there are some. But most are photos of them doing their own things, or one of them posing with the kids and grandkids. 

Now, I know that correlation is not causation and I shouldn’t draw any conclusions. Still, after hours and hours of looking at photos, I can’t help but wonder if the secret of a long marriage is limiting the amount time you spend in the same room. And only standing side by side when someone forces you to pose for a photo. 

At the very least, it seems to have worked for my parents. 

About Rachel Lewis

I am a writer, ceramic artist, knitter, and new stepparent. As a playwright, I had six short plays produced in showcases and festivals in Manhattan, Salt Lake City, and Austin. My full-length play, Locking Doors, was presented by Wordsmith Theatre Company in The New Lab Theatre (University of Utah) in 2005. I co-wrote a teleplay titled “Thank God I’m Atheist” which won the 2015 “No God But Funny” contest founded by the Center for Inquiry. My short nonfiction essay, “It’s Coming Down,” was published by the online literary magazine Halfway Down the Stairs. I currently work in pharmaceuticals professionally and write recreationally, but dream of making the transition to write professionally and do pharmaceuticals recreationally. I am a Utah native and live in Salt Lake City with my Yorkshire terrier, Wensleydale Doggiepants. I am working on a collection of humorous non-fiction essays and a second full-length play. Follow me at: rachelclewis.com @rachel_lewis_ut (Twitter) @rachel_lewis_ut (Instagram)

One response to “Going For Gold

  1. Gina

    Why I don’t want to be married fifty years

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