For 44 years, I’ve been waking up next to my wife—Ruby—who has been part of my consciousness for essentially my entire adult life.
And when I say consciousness, I don’t mean biology or age.
I mean the moment awareness arrives—
when life becomes choice,
and choice becomes consequence.
When decisions begin shaping your future, your family, your destiny.
For most people, that moment comes around eighteen or nineteen, maybe the early twenties.
For me, it came sooner.
I was married by nineteen.
I’ve always been mature for my age, and I credit my parents for that. I was the firstborn of seven children, and leadership was not something I sought—it was something life required. My father drew me into responsibility early. He had me speaking in church at the tender age of seven. I was baptized at nine. I began leading within the church at a very young age.
That spiritual formation didn’t just teach me how to speak. It taught me how to love.
It taught me love in its purest sense—the love of God for His children. And through that lens, I learned to see parenting as an extension of divine care: the love my mother and father poured into us, the love they modeled toward each other, the love we shared as brothers and sisters. So my understanding of love did not begin with romance. It began with family. It began with responsibility. It began with presence.
And it was from that vantage point that I desired to have the same kind of love in my own life. I wanted my own family. I wanted my own home. I wanted covenant. I wanted to love and be loved in the same quiet, enduring way I had witnessed growing up.
So I married the love of my life.
Ironically, I don’t think I was old enough to fully understand love as an adult, because I wasn’t quite an adult yet. I only knew love as a child. But what I knew was real. It was lived, not explained. Love wasn’t something defined in words in my home. Love was defined in action.
Love was caring for the other person. Being concerned about their well-being. Doing what was necessary for them to be strong, whole, and able to pursue their dreams. Love wasn’t performance—it was commitment.
As a child, love wasn’t sexual. It wasn’t intimacy. Especially within family, that would have been abuse. Love was emotional. It was deep care. It was protection and belonging. It was agape—the love that exists unconditionally, in spite of weakness, failure, or disappointment.
It was a love that kept giving and kept forgiving.
A love that never ran out of grace.
A love that said there is nothing you can do that will make me stop loving you.
That is the love I brought into my marriage.
Yes, Ruby was beautiful. Yes, she was—and still is—very attractive. And yes, I was a young man with very real desires. But my deeper longing wasn’t physical. It was familial. I wanted covenant. I wanted us. I wanted a life built together, side by side, the way I had seen love lived out my entire life.
Marriage, at its core, is simple—though never easy. What is yours becomes hers. What is hers becomes yours. You share dreams, burdens, victories, failures, and time. You become family.
And when I look back on 44 years of marriage, I am filled with gratitude.
Grateful for the children we brought into this world.
For the grandchildren they have given us.
For the homes we bought and sold.
For the struggles and the victories.
For the trials, the temptations, the tests, and yes—even the failures.
I am grateful for it all.
Most of all, I am grateful that the foundation by which we came together is the same foundation by which we stay together:
And we will—until death do us part.
So to my wife—my partner of 44 years—
44 Christmases.
44 Thanksgivings.
44 New Years.
44 springs, summers, falls, and winters.
44 birthdays.
A lifetime of ordinary days that became an extraordinary life.
I love you more today than words can fully express.
You are my family.
You are my life.
You are what makes everything right.
You are the light that clears my path and gives me purpose.
And I thank God for you.
🙏 Thank you for taking a moment to read this reflection. Writing has always been a way for me to honor life, love, faith, and the experiences that shape who we become. I appreciate your time and presence here.
If this piece resonated with you, I invite you to explore more of my poetry, articles, and videos—each created to reflect, encourage, and connect through shared human experience.
To read more poetry by Eric Lawrence Frazier, click here:
https://ericfrazieruk.com/bookstore/poetry/
Eric Lawrence Frazier, MBA
Trusted advisor in business, real estate, and wealth
www.ericfrazier.com | www.ericfrazieruk.com
NMLS #451807 | CA DRE #01143484
44 Years: The Love That Became My Life
For 44 years, I’ve been waking up next to my wife—Ruby—who has been part of my consciousness for essentially my entire adult life.
I mean the moment awareness arrives—
when life becomes choice,
and choice becomes consequence.
When decisions begin shaping your future, your family, your destiny.
For me, it came sooner.
I was married by nineteen.
I’ve always been mature for my age, and I credit my parents for that. I was the firstborn of seven children, and leadership was not something I sought—it was something life required. My father drew me into responsibility early. He had me speaking in church at the tender age of seven. I was baptized at nine. I began leading within the church at a very young age.
That spiritual formation didn’t just teach me how to speak. It taught me how to love.
It taught me love in its purest sense—the love of God for His children. And through that lens, I learned to see parenting as an extension of divine care: the love my mother and father poured into us, the love they modeled toward each other, the love we shared as brothers and sisters. So my understanding of love did not begin with romance. It began with family. It began with responsibility. It began with presence.
And it was from that vantage point that I desired to have the same kind of love in my own life. I wanted my own family. I wanted my own home. I wanted covenant. I wanted to love and be loved in the same quiet, enduring way I had witnessed growing up.
So I married the love of my life.
Ironically, I don’t think I was old enough to fully understand love as an adult, because I wasn’t quite an adult yet. I only knew love as a child. But what I knew was real. It was lived, not explained. Love wasn’t something defined in words in my home. Love was defined in action.
Love was caring for the other person. Being concerned about their well-being. Doing what was necessary for them to be strong, whole, and able to pursue their dreams. Love wasn’t performance—it was commitment.
As a child, love wasn’t sexual. It wasn’t intimacy. Especially within family, that would have been abuse. Love was emotional. It was deep care. It was protection and belonging. It was agape—the love that exists unconditionally, in spite of weakness, failure, or disappointment.
A love that never ran out of grace.
A love that said there is nothing you can do that will make me stop loving you.
That is the love I brought into my marriage.
Yes, Ruby was beautiful. Yes, she was—and still is—very attractive. And yes, I was a young man with very real desires. But my deeper longing wasn’t physical. It was familial. I wanted covenant. I wanted us. I wanted a life built together, side by side, the way I had seen love lived out my entire life.
Marriage, at its core, is simple—though never easy. What is yours becomes hers. What is hers becomes yours. You share dreams, burdens, victories, failures, and time. You become family.
And when I look back on 44 years of marriage, I am filled with gratitude.
For the grandchildren they have given us.
For the homes we bought and sold.
For the struggles and the victories.
For the trials, the temptations, the tests, and yes—even the failures.
I am grateful for it all.
Most of all, I am grateful that the foundation by which we came together is the same foundation by which we stay together:
We love each other.
And we will—until death do us part.
44 Christmases.
44 Thanksgivings.
44 New Years.
44 springs, summers, falls, and winters.
44 birthdays.
A lifetime of ordinary days that became an extraordinary life.
You are my family.
You are my life.
You are what makes everything right.
You are the light that clears my path and gives me purpose.
If this piece resonated with you, I invite you to explore more of my poetry, articles, and videos—each created to reflect, encourage, and connect through shared human experience.
To read more poetry by Eric Lawrence Frazier, click here:
https://ericfrazieruk.com/bookstore/poetry/
Eric Lawrence Frazier, MBA
Trusted advisor in business, real estate, and wealth
www.ericfrazier.com | www.ericfrazieruk.com
NMLS #451807 | CA DRE #01143484