Download & Print
March 7, 2026
State of the Union
By Mikie Baker
The Bandera Prophet
Love isn’t simple anymore. Today it involves medical directives, asking, “Did you take your pills?,” and saying “What?,” more than any other word in the English language. So, you can imagine how tricky it is for a couple of widowers trying to navigate wedded bliss.
My Future Husband and I met 10 years ago when we could still stay up past 9 o’clock and nobody was afraid to drive in the dark. Time isn’t on your side for making memories. In fact, six weeks into our relationship, MFH declared his love for me (yes, he said it first!) and I heartily agreed. Time’s a ticking.
A few years later, we looked at engagement rings. I explained to MFH that I have really long fingers so I needed a wide band dripping with diamonds or whatever he could afford. Got to keep that budget in mind. Medicare Part B payments are expensive, you know.
But My Future Husband had different plans. He had some 18k gold and a diamond tucked away for such an occasion. Really? How many men do you know that come with their own jewelry store? He had a lovely engagement ring made, that is if you like a tiny promise ring. At this age, my hands are so wrinkled, they’d just make that big diamond look ugly anyway.
I was now officially his fiancé. I loved announcing that far and wide until people started assuming I was his wife, so I referred to him as my husband especially if he introduced me to some hot chick and called me his fiancé.
Then last year MFL mentioned that he and his wife didn’t get married right away after they met, but they did buy each other wedding bands a couple of years in so they would have the Mark of the Betrothed.
That’s all I needed to hear. I hit the Etsy App and asked him what he thought about certain wedding bands. He chose one and I ordered it for Christmas. I did get down on bended knee to propose. Unfortunately, I needed help getting back up. I declared that he was officially married to me, but sadly, I was just engaged to him. (Ladies, this one works like a charm.) That’s when he admitted my ring was a wee bit smaller than he hoped it would be, so he’d buy me a beautiful ring of my choosing on Etsy. I’m wearing diamonds and emeralds now.
Next, we dragged ourselves to a lawyer, an accountant, and the VA Social Worker. So romantic. Turns out getting married at this age isn’t simple at all.
First, you have to deal with death. Final wishes, final income, final all that stuff. Barhopping for a man was much more fun. Next, what about taxes? Will it cost more on our limited income? Of course! Lastly, My Future Husband is a Veteran and gets free healthcare from the VA because of his service. If we get married, he loses all his freebies from the government. And nobody wants that. He’s not dragging a leg yet, but it’s coming.
More important is the scenario for a woman. Imagine losing your purse with all your IDs, credit cards, insurance cards, and favorite lipstick all at once? That’s what happens when you change your name at a late age. My brain’s no longer smart enough to navigate that mess.
We’ve decided we will never marry so we will never get divorced. The only problem is what am I going to call him now? He’s not My Future Husband anymore. My Married Husband sounds like he’s stodgy and smokes a cigar. My Present Husband means there will be more (no!) and My Perfect Husband just isn’t true. He gave me a promise ring, after all.
My Future Husband and I met 10 years ago when we could still stay up past 9 o’clock and nobody was afraid to drive in the dark. Time isn’t on your side for making memories. In fact, six weeks into our relationship, MFH declared his love for me (yes, he said it first!) and I heartily agreed. Time’s a ticking.
A few years later, we looked at engagement rings. I explained to MFH that I have really long fingers so I needed a wide band dripping with diamonds or whatever he could afford. Got to keep that budget in mind. Medicare Part B payments are expensive, you know.
But My Future Husband had different plans. He had some 18k gold and a diamond tucked away for such an occasion. Really? How many men do you know that come with their own jewelry store? He had a lovely engagement ring made, that is if you like a tiny promise ring. At this age, my hands are so wrinkled, they’d just make that big diamond look ugly anyway.
I was now officially his fiancé. I loved announcing that far and wide until people started assuming I was his wife, so I referred to him as my husband especially if he introduced me to some hot chick and called me his fiancé.
Then last year MFL mentioned that he and his wife didn’t get married right away after they met, but they did buy each other wedding bands a couple of years in so they would have the Mark of the Betrothed.
That’s all I needed to hear. I hit the Etsy App and asked him what he thought about certain wedding bands. He chose one and I ordered it for Christmas. I did get down on bended knee to propose. Unfortunately, I needed help getting back up. I declared that he was officially married to me, but sadly, I was just engaged to him. (Ladies, this one works like a charm.) That’s when he admitted my ring was a wee bit smaller than he hoped it would be, so he’d buy me a beautiful ring of my choosing on Etsy. I’m wearing diamonds and emeralds now.
Next, we dragged ourselves to a lawyer, an accountant, and the VA Social Worker. So romantic. Turns out getting married at this age isn’t simple at all.
First, you have to deal with death. Final wishes, final income, final all that stuff. Barhopping for a man was much more fun. Next, what about taxes? Will it cost more on our limited income? Of course! Lastly, My Future Husband is a Veteran and gets free healthcare from the VA because of his service. If we get married, he loses all his freebies from the government. And nobody wants that. He’s not dragging a leg yet, but it’s coming.
More important is the scenario for a woman. Imagine losing your purse with all your IDs, credit cards, insurance cards, and favorite lipstick all at once? That’s what happens when you change your name at a late age. My brain’s no longer smart enough to navigate that mess.
We’ve decided we will never marry so we will never get divorced. The only problem is what am I going to call him now? He’s not My Future Husband anymore. My Married Husband sounds like he’s stodgy and smokes a cigar. My Present Husband means there will be more (no!) and My Perfect Husband just isn’t true. He gave me a promise ring, after all.