SPRINGFIELD CENTER – She fretted about her hair, he wrapped his arm around her tiny shoulders. They gazed into each other’s eyes for a long moment before he offered her a tender kiss. Then with grins as broad as their hearts, George and Barbara “Wink” Rutler faced the camera, forever etching in time another love-filled moment. |
| George and Barbara Rutler hold their wedding photo, taken 65 years ago, in their home in Springfield Center. (Photo by Janine Giordano) |
| It could have been one of their first dates. It could have been the day he asked her to marry him, or the day he came home after serving his country in the Air Force for two years. It could have been their wedding day. But it wasn’t. If the love shining in their eyes was the only measure to judge the duration of their union, anyone looking on would have sworn they were newlyweds. Love like this normally doesn’t last for 65 years. So what’s the secret? “I don’t think we’ve ever been apart, except for the war years,” he offered, contemplating the perfect answer. “We each go out of our way to be considerate,” she countered. He tried again, and said, “We’ve never had a fight” “Humor is important,” she said, chuckling softly. “I don’t know how people can do it without laughing.” “We don’t use swear words. I don’t think we ever did in front of the kids,” he offered. “But we’re not holier than thou,” his wife of nearly seven decades noted with a nod. They teased and prompted, started sentences the other finished, shared private “off the record” memories that brought laughter to their lips and tears to their eyes. Watching them together, it is almost tangible, this love that bubbles up and over their hearts and fills their beloved sunporch and their 200-year-old house, and settles in the gardens still barren and weed-strewn from the winter. It is more beautiful than any poppy they have ever grown, sweeter than any tomato plucked from a vine. “She’s running around now,” he said, shaking his head in her direction. She gasped softly and laughed, telling him to stop. But he went on. “She’s joined the Red Hat Society and she goes off once a month without me. I sit at home here biting my nails wondering when she’s coming home,” he nodded again, the twinkle in his eye matching hers. She enjoys her time with her Red Hat lady friends. And he enjoys her having her fun. He keeps busy too though, playing mandolin with the Parlor Players. Their next gig is at the Homestead in Mohawk, on Monday. She never worked out of the house after they were married, although prior to marrying George, Barbara worked in an apron factory in New Jersey. During World War II, she volunteered with the Red Cross rolling bandages while he was away. And she stayed home raising their two children. “It was all farm lands back then,” he said. Over the years “all the farmland was sold and clusters of homes were built all around. We knew then it was time to retire and move.” So after 29 years of working at a textile mill in New Jersey, he said good bye, and they relocated, moving to Springfield Center back in 1990. Throughout the decades they traveled a lot, together visiting every continental state except Maine and Vermont. In addition to gardening, and except for his mandolin playing and her “running around” on him, they do everything together, whether it’s gardening, renovating their home, serving as members of the historical society or Fourth of July parade committee, or even exercising together with the senior citizen exercise class he was instrumental in establishing. “You were also instrumental in getting the walking path (at the community center) going,” she reminded him softly. He agreed, then noted the irony of fate. “I got the grant to get it going, but now that I have a walking path practically in my own back yard, I can’t use it.” He suffers from an ailment that affects his legs and makes it difficult to walk. “I can’t get around like I used to, so she takes care of me,” he said, emotion welling up in his eyes as he looked over at his bride. “She takes care of me and even makes me get out and exercise.” “I spoil him,” she said with a smile. Somewhere in the midst of all this reminiscing, George stumbled upon the secret to their very long, happy marriage. “I kiss her every morning and every night. And I tell her I love her. Every day,” he said. Then, with a soft sigh and a smile, George removed his glasses to wipe away the tears, his eyes never leaving Wink’s face. Sixty-five years may be a life time, but when you’re in love, “it goes by so fast,” Barbara noted last week, sitting beside her husband in their sun porch, enjoying the shade on a warm spring afternoon.
|