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Posts Tagged ‘#weddinganniversary’

It’s half over …

was my sorrowful thought one day this summer, as I lay in his arms, head on his chest … my place in our world.

Thirty years of marriage have now come and gone.

Thirty years, three provinces, seven homes, numerous work places, eight pregnancies, three children … adult children now, good days, bad ones, seasons of plenty and those of want, health and sickness … mutual love and disdain at time too.

But today, as we celebrate thirty years of living under the covenant of promises that were both kept and broken (’cause there is none who keeps such lofty vows perfectly) I keep thinking, as I did that day this summer …

it’s half over
and I feel the weight to make the best of each day that is left …

be it thirty years, or more, or much less.

To know that you are entering the second half, is to know the value of what you have spent the first half fighting for, because now dawns the realization that together is not forever.

I have started to awaken to realities, since that summer day in his arms. That dinner for two is less about the food, and more about the two. That rolling over in bed, in the middle of the night, is an opportunity to whisper I love you. That driving together in silence can make you smile, just for the pleasure of being together. That the sounds of football (baseball, hockey … ) are indicators of his presence. That touch still creates shivers. That thank-you can’t be said enough. That the season of dreaming together isn’t over until we return to dust. That it’s not too late for ________ (fill in the blank) … yet.

The gift of thirty years of marriage is that each remaining day is sweeter, more valuable … not a moment to be wasted by attitudes or actions that could only bring regrets. This is the season for adventures for just two, for shared laughter and private jokes, for kisses that linger and amen whispered each night.

The gift of thirty years of marriage is waking up, thankful for the day together.

“Grow old with me
Let us share what we see
And oh the best it could be
Just you and I
And our hands they might age
And our bodies will change
But we’ll still be the same
As we are”
Grow Old With Me – Tom Odell

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Twenty-seven years!icon_househeart_red_750x5002

Twenty-seven years!

Last weekend hubby and I celebrated our 27th anniversary.

Twenty-seven years is 57.4% of my life!

I kept repeating it over and over again, as if awaiting some explanation for the passage of time.

As I look back on our wedding day, my most keen memory is who we were then. We were young (just twenty and twenty-three), naive, idealistic and so ‘in love’ with each other (with love).

It (marriage) was going to be so easy, because we were so in love. We were ready to face whatever would come our way, because we were together.

gag!

I wonder, if we knew then what we know now, would we?

Here’s the twenty-seven year reality check …

marriage is hard! 

and just when we think it is getting easier … it gets difficult all over again!

What I/we have learned most in twenty-seven years of marriage, is that being in love is not enough, because being in love is all about how the relationship feels, and feelings are fleeting, inconsistent, conditional and changing.

There have been (many) times in our marriage when we felt anything but in love towards each other. As a matter of fact, there have been many times when one or both of us has been pretty certain that we had made a mistake in marrying the other, and maybe even sought an escape clause.

Yet, here we are, but the long-lasting adhesive has not been love. The glue is far less romantic, but far more effective.

Our vows to each other, the license we signed, the promises we made, were really more like the legal contract for a mortgage.

Last weekend I heard hubby explain the meaning of the word, mortgage, to a fellow traveller. Mortgage is a french word which means slow death. It is a legal obligation to make payments either until it is paid off, or until foreclosure occurs.

Twenty-seven years ago we signed a mortgage-like license, promising to stay together, until it is paid off, or until death. It was a commitment to make regular payments, on the investment, and those payments are due whether the roof is leaking or the foundation crumbling … whether we feel like making the payments, or not.

If we chose to not make a payment, we then put ourselves in a position of threatened foreclosure … and we might lose all investment that we have made.

This is so not the romantic love that was the driving force behind our walk down the aisle. Yet, it is the only thing that can guarantee that there will be anything left of the original structure when debt is paid.

Twenty-seven years!

I am thankful for these years …

though some payments came up short, or were late …

though I resented the times when I had to pay more than my share …

though I am embarrassed when I didn’t contribute at all …

though our roof leaks …

and the maintenance seems impossible …

with God’s help our investments pay off,

every day we have together.

And some days, the sun shines in, illuminating each other, reminding us of the delights of feeling in love, and leaving us thankful for not foreclosing.

May it be a slow, slow death …

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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