Love's Labor

The sky started spitting rain on me during my Just 10 walk.  I looked down at my feet to keep the rain off my glasses.  Overhead, a small squadron of geese flew.  They mate for life.  Why is it that at least half the human married couples do not?  Maybe it's because marriage is hard work.  This I know from experience. 

I don't often write about my marriage.  Much of it must remain private.  It is a complicated relationship.  Our marriage, any marriage isn't all hearts and flowers.  Marriage is morning breath.  It's silly arguments and tears.  It's big arguments and more tears.  It's hard work.  Take a marriage.  Add a child or two and you've geometrically increased the odds for trouble.   Compromise, sacrifice, surrender become daily occurrences.  Your significant other looks less like a knight in shining armor and more like a scruffy hobo, a hobo begging for things you don't want to give.  You toss a dirt clog in his cup.

You are in the crucible of marriage.  You want the other to change, to be what you want them to be but the wanting doesn't change a thing.  You must make a decision.  You must do the changing.  It is in this changing that the real growth and beautiful of marriage takes place.  It is a difficult place to reach, even more difficult to endure the changing.  This is probably why so many people give up.  I truly believe there are marriages that should end, a partnership  that does more damage than good.  Ending such a relationship is a positive and healthy thing.  I also believe that many of us give up too easily.  There have been many a time when I was ready to "saddle up and ride off into the sunset alone."  I'd struggle to pull the horse back into the corral and lead her into the barn to "think about things overnight."  In the morning, I'd decide to stay just a little longer.  The years have passed and I remain.  I remain because every day I make the choice to stay.  Every day I say, "I do."

In that choice, I've found many things.  I'm a better person thanks to my husband and the process of continual refinement that takes place inside a marriage.  I'm like an agate, hidden under rock layers, waiting to be tumbled into a beautiful stone.  I still resist this process of refinement.  Occasionally, I find myself entering the land of hate or an extreme dislike.  Fortunately, I know that these emotions are not the opposite of love.  They are love's dark side.  It is indifference that kills a marriage.  If the energy to hate remains, it is because underneath it all, love or at least the memory of love is still hiding.  When a negative firestorm such as this hits, I know to wait it out and then survey what remains when the flames die down.  In the scorched landscape, there are signs of life and growth.  I begin again.  We begin again.

Marriage is more than hard work, rock tumblers or firestorms.  My marriage is often about spending time with a best friend.  It's finding human comfort in a harsh world.  It's about having someone in my corner, watching my back.  It's about being part of a team and uniting to benefit the children with a mutual show of force or of love, depending on the needs of the situation.  It's about sharing a life with someone, someone who is helping you grow and change and become a much better person just for their being in it and sharing their life with you.  Marriage is not all hearts and flowers.  It is so much more.  Thank you, husband, Big Mr. A.  I love you.