If Something Happens, Our Last Words Will Be, “I Love You”

In my early twenties, I worked construction for a while for a company that traveled the southeast building fast-food joints. For a while, the boss booked us two to a room (hopefully with twin beds). I was on one crew for a few months and roomed with this guy named Doug. He was a newlywed and every night, after we got in bed and turned out the lights, he said, “I love you, Mary.”

Being single, I ribbed him about it, but in the back of my mind, I kind of respected him for it. He said it was a habit they had formed and he wasn’t going to break it just because his wife was hundreds of miles away.

They say that, as a couple, you should never go to bed angry. My beautiful bride of 40 years told me that when we were just a young couple, and I’ve never forgotten it. After 40 years, I can’t honestly say we have an unbroken streak, but we’ve done pretty well. And like Doug, all those years ago, the last words we say to each other is, “I love you.”

Some people say that these words become a habit; we repeat them by rote and they become meaningless. I think those people are fools. It is not a phrase I have ever used lightly, and I meant it when I said it just a few minutes ago, just as much as I did the first time I said it to her.

We had just come back from a date; I don’t remember which one. We were back at my crappy little duplex, leaning up against my ’63 Dodge. We did that stare each other in the eyes thing for a minute, and then the words just rushed out.

I did the math because I’m geeky that way. We have probably said that phrase about 150,000 times since then and I mean it every time.

But that’s not what this story is about.

I try not to think about it, but sometimes, my mind just goes there. You hear about death or some tragedy. Or a major catastrophe turns the world on its ear; tsunamis, hurricanes, Nine-Eleven, Covid-19. And I think, what if that was the last time I ever saw her?

I know that eventually, that day will come. I hope it is a long time in the future.

But it could be today.

You never know. And so, whether it is going to bed or going to the grocery store, our last words are always, “I love you.”

And with modern technology, our I Love You count has skyrocketed. If some geek hacked my phone and checked my text messages, that phrase will outweigh all other words combined.

Here’s the thing I want younger couples to understand. Right now you have jobs and other commitments that take you apart often. I remember those days. During the week, it is entirely possible that the waking hours you are together each day is 15% of your time.

But that will change.

Eventually, hopefully, you will reach retirement. You will probably downsize and maybe just have one car. You will do a lot of traveling together. You will do a lot of everything together. It is not only possible but likely that you spend all your time together for days, if not weeks on end. I hope that happens to you and I hope that it never gets old.

Because those few times here and there when we are apart, I am no longer whole. You can give it some psycho-babble name if you want to. I call it love. I say it is the way it is meant to be. Some people don’t believe in monogamy. I say those people are fools.

But on those rare occasions, the last thing we say to each other is, “I love you.” Because you never know when the last thing you say to each other will be the last thing you say to each other.

And I’m not talking about us parting for some grand adventure where we will be apart for days. If she goes off to lunch with her friends, “I love you.” If I go to have coffee with the guys, “I love you.”

If I go upstairs to my office to write this article, “I love you.”

Every once in a while, usually, after some tragedy occurs, we talk about this. How we would want to go if we had a choice? Who would go first? I think we agree that, ideally, we die together in bed, but that’s not likely. And the only ways I can think that could happen aren’t things I want to think about.

But we have thought about and talked about, what if one or the other goes first. It will be painful for the survivor. I can’t decide if I want to go first, so I don’t feel the pain, or I want to go last so she doesn’t feel the pain.

We’ve all heard the stories where one partner dies soon after the other, and I can understand that. We’ve been together two-thirds of our lives, and all of our adult lives. We don’t know how to be alone. And based on the times when it has happened, we don’t want to be alone.

But someday, it is almost inevitable. One of us will be alone. That person will look at the pictures and other mementos of our lives together. They will reminisce and they will cry. A lot. Hopefully, someday, they will move on and learn to be happy again. Or as close to happy as someone broken can be.

And I think that it can happen. I believe that the survivor can reconcile themselves to the new reality and learn to live again. Some people talk about the seven stages of grief. I think those people are fools. There aren’t stages; time just passes.

But the reason I think that the survivor will be able to move ahead is simple. It’s not about grief, stages, or not. It will come down to one simple memory. One moment in time that will be burned in our memory for the rest of our life. The last words we spoke to each other.

“I love you.”