Many marriages begin without a hitch. After the vows are recited, love is in full bloom.

 

However, even in the best marriages, the road can become bumpy, as you will see in . . .

 

 

Do You Love Me?

 

Some questions go unanswered. Although frustrating, even sad, this seems to be part of life and, in particular, love. Such is the case in the lives of Max and Martha Slepper. Martha sat on the bed staring off into space. She heard a rustling noise in the bedroom doorway. With a tired look in her eyes, she turned her head and gazed at Max, who just stood there in silence.

 

“Max, you look like you’re lost. You’re scaring me. What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know. Just bothered by the reality of life and a question that’s been bugging me. Do . . . you . . . love . . . me?”

“We’ve been married fifty-six years. Doesn’t that mean something? We’ve raised four wonderful children. We have a beautiful house, where we raised the kids—so many good memories. Did you here the buzzer on the clothes dryer?”

“What? I asked you a question.”

“And I asked you one. Did you hear the buzzer?”

“I really don’t care. I don’t know how I’ve put up with you for fifty-six years. I just want an answer to my question. It’s not hard. If you love me, just say it.”

“You put up with me because you love me. Right? You do love me?”

“Huh? I don’t know anymore. I can’t even get a simple answer to my question. I’m going to the kitchen to get a coke. I need a good dose of caffeine.”

“But . . . I love you, Max. Do you love me?”

 

Max didn’t respond. He turned and trudged down the hallway, leaving Martha sitting on the bed bewildered. Her heart palpitated. She wanted to run after him . . . put her hands around his neck and strangle him, for he started this whole thing—not her. Then tears welled up in her eyes, as she whimpered, “He does love me. Doesn’t he?” At that moment, Max appeared in the doorway. Their eyes met, and he muttered, “Yes.”    

 

 

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