On the wall by my desk sits a picture of me and my Beloved on his brother's wedding day. I love it. I love the dress that I was wearing and the pink shirt my honey was wearing. Blonde's look great in pink. I'm just sayin.
I vividly remember that late summer day and how my usually snarky sister-in-law to be, was so nervous that she almost didn't make it down the aisle. Weird that. They were married right here on the farm and I think it kind of irked my dear, sweet mother-in-law that we didn't have a double wedding.
But that was years before SIL and I were truly friends, you know, like we are now.
Those were the days of one upping each other.
As I sit here, gazing at the photo, I realize that our son is the same age that we were in that photo. Only, he's smarter and single.
When I look at the pictures of my children, that stand nearby, I see people who amaze me. They are both so much more than either me or my husband were at their age.
I've been told by people that we married too young. We did. Maybe, but I guess it's working out.
Others have told me that our marriage is the exception, not the rule.
Does that mean that we've let our children down? We don't yell and scream and throw things. We did, once upon a time, but we outgrew that silliness.
Our marriage isn't perfect, but we're committed, or maybe we should be committed...
I hope that our children have learned to fight through the hard times and that they realize that sometimes, frankly, you are not going to love that person you wake up with (and that's okay as long as you remember that you still like them). I wonder if they'll remember to do kind things for their spouse, especially when they don't feel like it. I hope they remember that there are so many things that are far more important than money.
I hope they smooch in front of their children until their children scream with disgust.
And that they'll leave the kiddies home and go out on a date.
I hope my children will look back at our marriage, long after we are gone, and tell their grandchildren the love story of their great-grandparents.
This squishy blog post is brought to you by three failed marriages that I learned of this week. These shipwrecks burst upon me suddenly and I am saddened.
It hurts my heart, it truly does.
The picture hanging on my wall shows me two very young adults who were crazy about each other. I think I'll hang a more current picture next to it. Just another picture of two middle aged (gulp) adults who are slightly nuts, but are in it for the long haul.