More than 40 years ago one of my favorite poets, Judith Viorst, wrote “Married is Better.” At the time I totally agreed with her, and still do.

Late last month, my husband and I celebrated our 50th wedding anniversary. Fifty years with the same person!!! It’s truly hard to imagine where those five decades have gone. After all we’re still basically the same fun-loving kids we were in 1960, aren’t we?

Who knew then that we would leave our native land, legally live in five states and become U.S. citizens? Who knew that he would have to travel a great deal, and I would often get to go along to foreign lands?

We’ve learned a lot in 50 years. As the oldest children in both our families, we’ve learned the need to do what we can for our parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles. Family comes first. Running a very close second are friends. When you move away from where you grew up, friends quickly become your social glue. We have been exceptionally lucky and still have good friends both in Canada and the states where we lived. Retirement has enlarged and enhanced our circle of friends — most of us don’t have our families just down the road a bit, or in the next town, not even in the next state, so we fill those empty family spots with good friends.

I’m not sure that you’d consider us a “perfect match.” Nothing is perfect. But somehow we muddled through and got to this landmark anniversary.

He’s a right-handed engineer, born under the orderly sign of Virgo. I’m a left-handed klutz, born under Leo’s more flamboyant sign. Married is better.

He’s an outdoorsman who likes almost any sport out there, whether as a player or spectator. I’m more of the indoor type. He brings home the news from the golf course. I bring the gossip from the bridge table. Married is better.

When he mangled his shoulder and several adjoining parts in a ski accident, I quickly learned to be a caregiver, and depending on the day, a drill sergeant, more of a nag, or a compassionate companion. When I broke my left arm, was casted from shoulder to fingertips and was helpless, our roles were reversed. Married is better.

I cry at sad movies. I cry at happy movies. I can even shed a few tears at a commercial. He hands me his handkerchief. Married is better.

As we age and have annoying things like doctors’ appointments, ‘procedures’, therapy with aches and pains, it’s so good to have someone to lean on, to do the driving, to talk back to the medical profession when needed. Married is better.

With very little guidance, he can shop for groceries and then cook them. Married is better.

We have one daughter who has brought much joy and happiness, tears and laughter, adventure and bravado, surprises and challenges to 40 of these 50 years. Married is better.

When we got married, we never thought about a 50th anniversary. In those days, people who made it to 25 years were special — and old, like our parents. Now we read about lots of 50s, several 60s, and even a few 70s in years together. Married is definitely better.