Trena Eiden

You don’t know me and if questioned, my children would tell you, you’re better for it. Those same cheeky offspring are a doctor, a traveling NICU nurse, a petroleum engineer and a chemical engineer. I was once asked how I managed to raise professionals and I replied, “When they went off to college, I told them they better make enough money, so I didn’t have to live with them.”

I’ve written for many years but this is a new saddle I’m sitting in for the Powell Tribune, so I’ll enlighten you just a smidge about me by hitting a few highlights.

I’ve been equally yoked to my husband, Gar, for 40 years and if you think I mean equally yoked in the biblical sense, God bless you for trying. Ours is a bit more basic. When Gar and I first married, people feared we wouldn’t make it because we were so different. Gar was sane and, I swear I’m not proud of this, but I was (was?) like Benjamin Ferencz, the chief prosecutor and investigator of the Nazi war crimes. When asked if he was occasionally insubordinate, Ferencz replied, “No, I’m usually insubordinate.” Our differences don’t seem to be a worry anymore because we’re much more compatible. Now we really are each other’s type; we’re both chubby and bearded.

In the early days we never separated because we made a pact that whoever asked for a divorce, had to take the kids. Now at the cusp of middle age, we’ve decided marriage is really about finding that one special person you can annoy for the rest of your life. On our honeymoon, Gar got food poisoning, but since he was a newlywed, he wanted to live. After 40 years with me … not so much. I’ve mentioned that he’d miss me if I died, but I’ve never asked what he’d do without me lest he reply, “Smile more.”

I’m sure Gar would never leave me. It’s not that he’d mind being alone, but he wouldn’t want to start mowing the lawn. I do know it was a bleak day with shattered spirits when Gar realized I wasn’t ever going to be a better person. With sad eyes he inquired, “Is it menopause?” I said, “No, I’m just like this.” It’s a riddle how, knowing I’ll get cranky, Gar still voluntarily peeves me from time to time. When asked if my husband had ever gone to war, I replied, “Only with me.”

I recently saw where two Hollywood actors were splitting up after only two years of marriage. I screeched to Gar, “Two years?! They don’t even know which one of the quirks the other has they hate the most yet!”

The other day, a 90-year-old client told me, “If Bill dies before I do, I’m not getting married again. I couldn’t find one any better and I certainly don’t want a worse one.”

For any of you contemplating marriage, allow me to give you marital advice. Mine is, “Marriage is like being on a ship at sea, and you don’t jump overboard when it gets rough.” Gar’s is, “Marriage is like a boat with holes in the bottom of it and you don’t get in it in the first place.” Unfortunately for Gar, I adore him and if he ever leaves me, I’m going with him.

I’m a little on the OCD side, which according to my children is another term for bossy. In the morning before leaving for work, I like my house put together and again before I lay my head on the pillow at night. I have a friend who, get this, after dinner, leaves her dishes in the kitchen sink all night. All night. Apparently, nobody dies.

I carry a purse that contains adequate paraphernalia to start a small business, thus it’s hefty enough to be placed in the anvil category. While this is hard on my back, it’s good in that, when it’s hanging on the hook inside a bathroom stall, I never worry about a hand reaching over the door and pilfering it. The person who could snag that heavy-weight would be easy to spot; she’d be the one with the dislocated elbow.

In my know-it-all opinion, the one thing not to do is smoke. When asked if I’ve ever smoked, I always reply, “No, I use too much hairspray.”

If this has taken your mind off your troubles, I’ll give Jesus all the glory. If I’ve offended you, I never meant to — at least not today.

(Trena Eiden, Wyoming native, wife to Gar, mother of four and Grammy to 11, works and writes every day because she likes to eat. She loves babies and old people and feels her favorite quote from Sister Angelica is universal, “If it wasn’t for people, we could all be holy.” She lives in Big Piney.)