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Maybe you get an egg poacher instead of those marcasite earrings you had your heart set on. Or maybe it’s an industrial-size container of Spray ’n’ Wash instead of the perfume you wanted.
    Anniversary presents are the last to change. Instead of pearls, it’s plumbing supplies; a makeup kit is replaced with oven cleaner; and that romantic weekend getaway you’ve been hinting about for months has become a pass for an all-night bowling session.
    When these gift changes start to happen in a relationship, there’s no denying it—you have a problem. It’s called practicality. Now on the surface there’s nothing wrong with practicality. After all, why buy your sweetheart a box of chocolates when you really need a new toilet plunger? And with roses costing up to seventy-five dollars a dozen, why waste that kind of money when you can rent a carpet shampooer for half the price?
    If we’re not careful, by the time we reach middle age the romance in our lives can be virtually nonexistent. We can become too comfortable with our spouse, taking him or her so much for granted that we stop doing those little things that are so necessary to keep love alive. We can easily fall into the trap of never paying attention to our loved ones until they walk in front of the TV while we’re watching our favorite show or tie up the telephone when we’re expecting a call.
    Think about it—when was the last time you went for a walk with your husband? (Helping him take out the garbage doesn’t count.) Did the last note you left on the dresser tell him you love him or was it a reminder to pay the electric bill? And husbands, when was the last time you brought your wife flowers, besides that packet of seeds you gave her to plant last spring?
    The good news is your romance doesn’t have to grow cold. You may not be the young starry-eyed couple you used to be, but you’re still a couple. Some of the most romantic couples I’ve seen are in their seventies and eighties.
    There’s something wonderful that develops between a man and a woman who have survived all the storms of life together. They can celebrate their fortieth, fiftieth, or even their seventy-fifth wedding anniversary and look back on a good marriage— no marriage is perfect—to which they have stayed true. Their disagreements taught them how to compromise, and through their disappointments they learned to appreciate the good times. Instead of growing out of marriage, they persevered and grew in it.

    To endure is the first thing a child ought to learn, and that which he will have the most need to know.
—Jean-Jacques Rousseau

18

Regrets
    One of my favorite songs is George Burns’ ‘‘I Wish I Were Eighteen Again.’’ It’s the kind of song that makes you feel good and sad at the same time. (‘‘You’re the Reason Our Kids Are Ugly’’ does that, too, but in a different way.)
    Whether you’ve just turned forty or you’re nudging one hundred, by now you’ve no doubt accumulated your share of regrets. When you look back on your life, there are things you’d do differently if you were eighteen again. Or twenty-five. Or thirty. You know the things you wish you had done but didn’t and the things you wish you hadn’t done but did. There are people you’d like to have spent more time with and a few with whom you might regret having spent so much time. There are places you wish you had visited and a few you might wish you had skipped.
    Maybe you regret having taken so many risks. Maybe you wish you had taken more. Now that you see the bigger picture, you wish you hadn’t wasted so much time worrying, because what you worried about never came about and the difficulties you did face never could have been imagined.
    If you could do it all over again, maybe you’d want to make more money, save more money, or give more away. Maybe you’d have the same friends; maybe you’d choose different ones. You’d surely trust some people more because you can see now that they