February 25, 2013 § 4 Comments
A friend’s daughter is getting married and the first refrains of territorial claims over endless choices triggered memories of my own wedding. From the beginning my husband and I didn’t want a wedding, we were already planning for the family we had begun and our hearts and minds were full of bigger choices; houses and baby names dwarfed reception menus and song titles. Our day was crafted out of good intentions and false assumptions, the imperfect moments more true to life than the ceremony that bound us together.
Intentions and assumptions often distort the scale of our troubles. This morning our breakfast table tumbled out of harmony over spilled cereal. I can guarantee that each of the four members of our family experienced the morning’s discontent differently lost to their own perspective with the same certainty that I know weddings are not about flowers or cake.
We photograph the beautiful moments while learning most about one another in the uncomfortable moments. Anger and sadness are guards against tenderness when we are our most vulnerable. So often our holidays and anniversaries are laden with vulnerability stretched between expectations and intentions. In everyday moments responsibilities, fatigue, and miscommunication similarly create conflict.
Over the years, my husband and I have exchanged countless words. Most of them with less consideration than I poured into our vows. Emotional and honest, there is little poetry to these exchanges but they are the very foundation for where we stand.
Today, on the eve of our anniversary and following a morning tinged with chords of disharmony I am most grateful for the unspoken committment between us, the silent promises to weather difficult moments mindful of our good fortune. The awareness that as we look back at our greatest challenges in marriage and family, our footsteps are always close together.