Editor's Letter: A marriage that lasts

last updated 8 January 2015

Bill Clinton, Hillary, Chelsea, and Marc were at the next table, talking avidly over their dinner, and my wife and I couldn’t help but snoop. No, no—this wasn’t at the big wedding last weekend (see Talking points); believe it or not, I was not invited. It was at a Mexican restaurant in the Clintons’ hometown of Chappaqua, N.Y., where we had met some friends. While we were perusing the menu, the former First Family strolled in. With an eye to his cholesterol intake, Bill ordered soup and vegetable fajitas. But as he talked and listened, the Big Dog kept reaching into the basket of tortilla chips, and absent-mindedly popped one after another into his mouth. Without a word, Hillary finally slid the chips basket down the table, out of Bill’s reach. It was the story of their marriage in a single gesture: Bill’s undisciplined yearning, Hillary’s vigilant determination to protect him from himself.

What, you have to wonder, did Chelsea learn about marriage from her parents’ notorious union? We can guess she’s warned Marc, in no uncertain terms, to keep his hand out of the chips basket. But the Clinton marriage has been more than its worst moments. While countless other marriages have fallen apart, something kept the Clintons together, something that many people can’t understand. That something, I’d guess, is what I saw in my parents’ much less tumultuous marriage of 55 years: a grudging acceptance of each other’s flaws and quirks that ripens, in time, into profound affection; a deep well of shared experiences; and a connection that transcends all frustrations and disappointments. It's not the rosy picture of marriage you find in fairy tales, but it's one that lasts.