labor of love
May 26, 2016 § 2 Comments
I think there is a great fiction to marriage, one that informs false expectations and unrealistic standards. How is that two imperfect people could possibly perform a perfect union?
Of all our friends, I have yet to meet the image of my ideal that I held as my standard so many years past.
I’ve known dear friends who toss playful banter with barbs that wound. Others whose actions contradict the sincerity of their words. Few who are genuine in their brokenness.
Sometimes I wonder if we aren’t all propagating a greater harm in projecting elaborate performances of happily ever after. I like to think happy is a choice and responsibility.
My favorite couples are those who let the mask slip and reach for one another when it is easier to pull apart. Their anniversaries are more than a tally of years, but milestones that mark choices.
Our children understand the work of marriage with messy gestures of empathy and patience; our friends are not mislead by framed photographs of choreographed smiles.
My husband and I have been visible in both anger, sadness, and disappointment with the same honesty we share our joy and comfort.
On the difficult days I try to remember the man who held our children at their most fragile moments of life. On the easy days I lean into the familiarity of his playful disposition. Every day I try to give thanks for the home we build with our choices.
I want our children to understand that beyond the exhilaration of falling in love, there is a labor of love in the work of building a life.
Today, for just a moment, I want to celebrate the beautiful mess of marriage. For better or worse.
scribblechic 
Oh yes Marie, those unions can wobble, and sometimes very dangerously. But within it is a light, every shining onward 🙂
Well written and a great share 🙂
So let’s shed a little of that light and dispel false images of a nonexistent perfect; celebrate and honor the work of loving imperfectly.