I started blogging about eight months ago and haven’t been very faithful to write. I seem to always be waiting for inspiration. Recently a loved one (thank you Eric) posted on facebook “I love my life”, certainly inspiration enough. I’ve thought about his words a lot and feel so blessed that I can echo that sentiment and know the source of my contentment.
My life is not perfect, but I love the imperfections because I spend everyday with Michael, the man I married more than 39 years ago. I fell in love with him right after I turned 16, he was not quite 18. I was lucky enough to have an older brother, Mark. He introduced me to one of his good friends the night he and Mike graduated from high school. I don’t know if we can claim love at first sight but I remember “sparks” and it did not take long for me to know I wanted to spend my life with him.
We dated and became engaged over a two year period, then married in June of 1973. I wore a white dress, we both chose attendants we loved, and spoke vows we meant. I must admit the events of the day have somewhat blurred in my memory but not the significance. We embarked on a journey that day, a journey we still embrace.
We were later blessed with three children, Charity, Courtney and Jacob. We worked together to help them become loving, educated and responsible adults. I have always marveled at what wonderful people our children became, we were just kids when we started raising them and not particularly good at it. I like to think that our love gave them an example of the relationship we wanted them to find for themselves.
We have been through so many things in our years together. We have lost people we loved so dearly we thought our hearts would surely break. We have large extended families and great friendships we truly cherish. We have been poor and enjoyed prosperity. We have received gifts, our grandchildren to name four, who are blessings beyond measure, even a bonus grandson from our oldest daughter. We have laughed and cried, but always together.
I have been asked by more than one person to write about our successful marriage but a lifetime of love and family could never be explained in a few short paragraphs. I have always known Michael would someday be the subject of my blog, but have worried my words would not be adequate. I know that God planned our union so I think it would be boastful of me to take any credit. I will always believe I married the person who is the other half of me. I could point out Mike’s admirable qualities, he is the most loving gentle man I have ever known, he is patient in all things, his memory and intelligence are amazing, I could go on and on. Michael is the man whose love makes me say “I love my life.”
It would be hard to sum up my parents amazing marriage in just this post. I think one reason I had such a hard time finding “Mr. Right” is that I knew the man I married would have to love be as unconditionally, deeply, and affectionately as my father loves my mother.
My parents seem to fall more in love every day of their lives.
Five years ago, I went to Italy with 12 eighth graders, 2 sixth graders, several parents including my own, and my brother. On the trip, on the EF bus that we seemed to be traveling on too often, my dad showed his love for my mom by a simple act that impacted our entire group. My dad is not an elequaent orator, a poet, or a writer so he shows his love differently than in all those crazy romance books. I was sitting in the back of the tour bus with some of the girls and dad put a sweater around my mom’s shoulders and kind of tucked it in a little bit because she had shivered. I hadn’t even noticed the action, but those 8th grade girls did. They were all a buzz talking about how romantic my dad was and how my parents loved each other so much and how they wished when they got married that it would be like that. It wasn’t just my 8th grade girls that noticed. The other parents on the trip talked about how they admired my parents and marveled at their relationship, even some of the 8th grade boys commented on my parents.
A simple act touches hearts. Do you perform simple acts to touch hearts?
What a sweet comment, you touched my heart. Love to my Charity.