I am no authority on marriage. But I did learn a very valuable lesson about marriage from a tombstone.
In Walnut Grove Cemetery in Rhea Mills, Texas, there lies a solitary grave that serves as a monument to a very dark chapter in my family history. The grave belongs to my great-uncle, William Foster Kerr, who died there in 1915 at the age of just a little over a year old. The fact that he is buried in Texas is significant because his parents and all of his brothers and sisters are buried in Tennessee, where they were all born. Why was William Foster Kerr’s family in Texas when he died?
His parents, who were my great-grandparents, Harvey and Florence Kerr, decided to move to Texas sometime around 1914 and try their luck farming in Collin County. The result was disastrous. For reasons still unclear to me, their crop failed and they could not make a living. Years later, every time my Grandaddy, Mack Kerr (who was not yet born at that time), talked about his parents’ journey to Texas, he always ended the story quietly and ominously, by saying, “They liked to have starved to death out there.”
It wasn’t long until Harvey and Florence moved their family back to Tennessee, leaving the body of their child buried in Walnut Grove Cemetery.
I’m not sure what killed little William Foster Kerr, who was one of six children at the time of his death. My guess is probably disease. But from the stories I’ve heard about that stay in Texas, I would not doubt if starvation played some part in his death.When I think of that sad tale, I always wonder what effect it must have had on Harvey and Florence’s marriage. It must have seemed like there would be no escape for either of them. Did Harvey ever look at his starving family and, wilting spiritually from such a load of responsibility, consider running away in the night? Did Florence, fueled by resentment at such a misadventure, ever feel justified to leave her husband and her family and catch the next train home?
I never met my great-grandparents, but I feel confident in answering both of these questions with a resounding NO. Neither their Christian convictions nor their personal honor would ever have excused such behavior, nor would their friends, kin, and neighbors.
So I wonder what they would think about the state of American marriages today. I feel sure that the excuses some people give today for destroying their families would cause my great-grandparents and other hard-lived men and women of their generation to scoff. According to a list I recently read online, chief among the top reasons for divorce in the United States today are “poor communication,” “change in priorities,” ”sexual dissatisfaction,” “financial difficulties,” and “failed expectations.”
Sometimes I think it might be a good thing for a married couple to starve together for a little while. How many marriages today would remain intact if the petty things in a marriage remained petty and the truly important things were counted as truly important? How many men would think twice about leaving a woman who loved him enough to stand by him when there was nothing to eat? How many women would overlook the small faults of a man who was devoted enough to work from daylight to dark to feed her and their children?
While the sad truth is that a good many people today really don’t think twice about leaving spouses who love that deeply, the deeper truth is that there is no “me” in “matrimony.” A husband is bound to his wife to love, cherish, and honor her all the days of his life. A wife is bound to her husband to love, cherish, and honor him all the days of her life. Marriage is not about what you can get out of it. I have heard no marriage vows that say, “Do you promise to hold your own interests above those of your spouse, eschew responsibility, run away from challenges, hold grudges, ensure that your own needs are more important to you than those of your spouse, place blame, belittle, or otherwise emotionally tear down your spouse so long as you both shall live?”As my 87-year-old grandfather Chester Alley has taken to reminding me lately, the only thing that can keep a married couple together is L-O-V-E; love for each other, love for their children, love for their neighbors, and–most importantly–a shared love for the Son of God. And while I may not be an authority on marriage, my grandfather certainly is.
He married my Granny in 1943, and they worked together, worshiped together, suffered together and loved each other for fifty-nine years, until her death. He is adamant that money will not hold a marriage together; they had nothing but a Dodge car and a pair of mules when they married, and he has had to wear his body out by working hard for everything he owns today. A big, elaborate wedding with fine jewelry and expensive clothing will not hold a marriage together; my grandparents’ fifty-nine year marriage began at the foot of a flu-stricken judge’s bed, with no attendants, no reception, and no flowing white dress. According to my grandfather, nothing money can buy or thieves can steal will keep a marriage together, only love; and without love, there can be no home, marriage, family or quality of life.
Although I will never know, I like to think that Harvey and Florence Kerr would have agreed. Through feast and famine, they remained a cohesive team; a single entity bound together by love and strengthened by the common experience of survival. But my great-grandparents were more than survivors; they were overcomers. When they left Texas, they not only escaped starvation, they escaped it together with their children, just as they no doubt mourned their infant son together and buried him in the Texas sod together. 
