‘I married a woman with character and loved her till the end’

Marie, my wife, was nothing if not a born comedian. It wasn’t planned, her humour, but something that ran in her family. An example, from a familial viewpoint: If you ever met her father and said, “G’day, Keith, how are you?” his response would be something like, “Well, I was all right until you got me worrying about it!”

I know I’ve mentioned this before, but on the very first day we met, I realised Marie had different coloured eyes. I told her, “You must be intelligent, a lot of Border Collies have eyes like yours!” She laughed uproariously at my gaffe — but still married me!

We took on a down-and-out supermarket 35 years ago, and ran it for a lot of years. There were many funny incidents over time but this next was one that always brought my better half to tears in the telling.

She had a flat tray trolley with several crates of milk on it. Removing cartons from the cabinet and cleaning it before refilling, the flat tray moved suddenly and hit her hard on the ankle. A boy — a spoiled rotten child — had pushed it to hit her. Glowering at him, she went on with her work. Next thing, she realised he was standing on the far end of the flat tray, bent over, giving her a ‘moonie’! The opportunity was too good to pass up. Pulling the flat tray towards her, the little monster fell off the end. As he picked himself up, he looked at her and said, “You did that on purpose, you old b***h!” It brought great laughter for years to come.

We set up a quality fruit and vege section. It really goes without saying, but it’s essential to have the best quality produce available and to be ruthless in removing anything damaged. One of the greatest causes of fruit loss, perennially, is customers squeezing fruit. They always put back the ones they’ve squeezed and take the next! Mrs K was an inveterate squeezer. Marie had explained, diplomatically, there was no need to do it but she persisted. One day, while Mrs K was busy squeezing pieces of fruit, Marie squeezed the couple of kilos of bananas in her trolley. Our senior shop assistant saw it happen and had a shot at her but they ended up giggling about what reaction there’d be. None, but the fruit squeezing suddenly stopped!

To have a couple of days off each fortnight, we used to drive 150 kilometres every second Friday night through the mountains to our private home. One night, 100mm of snow on the road, heater going full blast, we were climbing a twisting mountain pass, Marie sound asleep in the passenger seat. In the headlights, I saw an old Patrol with massively oversized tyres, out of control, heading straight at us. Thankfully, the uphill side of the road on that particular corner is relatively flat. Without second thought, I drove off as the Patrol slithered past, missing us by very little! The only damage we suffered was a mild bang on uneven ground and then we were back on the road. Marie’s eyes flickered open for a few moments. She said, “I wish you’d drive more carefully!” before dropping back off to sleep.

One of the silliest things that ever happened to me was a cause of great mirth to my beloved spouse. We agreed to help friends clean up a house they’d let for six months. It was a pigstye! I agreed to clean the stove, something achieved over 40-odd minutes. It operated on bottled gas and all was well as I turned on the controls to ensure everything worked. Oven, good. Hot plates, all good. Grill, ummm, nothing. I turned it off and tried again. Nothing. Ensuring bits were positioned properly, I turned it back on, struck a match, and whoosh! I was struck by a fireball. So much for love, care, cherish. When I was able to see again, the love of my life was literally rolling on the floor laughing!

There was no doom and gloom even as Marie entered her last few days. She and her friend Grace in their nursing home knitted dolls clothes for prem babies. One of the booties Marie made didn’t come out quite as expected. She and Grace laughed themselves silly at the thought they might now go into production of protectors for family jewels!

I loved that girl until the very end — still do, in fact — but thankfully my own sense of humour was on a par with hers. As I said above, I married a character!

Keen to share your thoughts with other 60-pluses? You can sign up as a contributor and submit your stories to Starts at 60. While you’re at it, why not join the Starts at 60 Bloggers Club on Facebook here to talk to other writers in the Starts at 60 community and learn more about how to write for Starts at 60. Community blogs published on the website go into the draw for some great weekly prizes.