I loved you then, I love you now, I'll love you always.

This afternoon my oldest Grand-daughter and I went to a wedding. The day was warm, the sun breaking in and out of the clouds, the threat of storms hanging on the horizon. We dressed up and spent the afternoon in the company of strangers. I knew two people there, I recognized others, it didn't matter. I was as comfortable as I have ever been at an event like this.
I first met the bride roughly 18 months ago. I stalked her from the window of the quilt shop where I was working. She was parked in the lot of the nearby restaurant and what I noticed was the decal she had in the rear window of her truck. I went outside and walked over and knocked on the glass of the passenger side window. She rolled the window down and I was immediately sure that I knew her. I had sat next to her at a grief seminar roughly 2 years prior. She showed no sign of recognition but she smiled and said Hi. I asked her about the decal, not the story of the why, the story of where. I wanted to know where she had ordered it, I had been thinking of something similar. She told me she couldn't remember the web-site but if she did, she would drop the information off at the quilt shop. The next day, that is exactly what she did. I think I sent her a brief thank-you but that was the end of our time together, until 4 months later when I stalked her into the local grocery store. I remember the day perfectly. I went to town and couldn't remember one single thing I came to do. I wandered around attempting to accomplish something. The town felt like a landmine. I dodged people everywhere I went. I looked like hell, I felt like hell. My last stop was the grocery store to buy food I didn't feel like eating. I parked in the lot and just sat there. I simply could not get out of the car. I saw this woman pull into the lot. She left her truck and entered the store. On that day, she was my last hope. I opened my door, went into the store, I didn't take a cart. I walked each row until I caught up with her in the potato chip isle. I called her by name and she turned to me and this is what I said, "I need a friend". She has become that, she is my friend, my confidant, she has introduced me to other amazing women. What drew us together no Mom wants to consider, what keeps us together is that bond but so much more. She has given me two of the dearest friends in my life, it is a gift I try hard to re-pay.

Then there is this:  Marty and I celebrated our 25th Wedding Anniversary 13 years ago. The kids threw us a party at the house and all of our family and friends came to celebrate with us. We ate and drank and danced the night away. It was a good memory. Before the party, in the late afternoon, the kids met us at the Catholic Church in town where we had asked the priest to bless us. We pulled up outside the church and no one was there. The priest had forgotten and gone uptown for supper. We waited for awhile, at first it seemed funny and then...not so much. Just when we had given up hope, our priest came driving down the street. He saw us waiting and jumped out of his car. He really didn't apologize, he kinda was the guy that flew by the seat of his pants. He had a rather dry sense of humor that was an acquired taste. I remember when I called him, he asked me if we wanted to "re-new" our vows. I said no. I told him we had said it once in front of God, we did not need to say it again. We walked together into the church. Father put on his vestments. The lights in the church were turned low, what started as something we wanted and he forgot became magic. We stood in front of Father Norm. Melissa, Mike, Katie and Heidi stood along the railing. Marty and I turned to each other and spoke. This is what I said:
"Twenty-five years ago we were children. We stood before God and made life promises. We spoke of forever and honor reciting the vows thinking in our young love that it would always be easy. We place high value on loyalty and I have always been honest and true. Did I understand the price that comes in trying to live up to promises made for a lifetime? No, but we have both worked very hard to grow together and not apart.
Today we stand together again. This time we are surrounded by four of the most honest and loving humans I know. They are our strength, and we are theirs. It is in their eyes and yours that I look and see God and know that for whatever reason I have been blessed.
I know now that love is not what is written about in songs. It is not what is written in books. It is not what is portrayed in the movies. It is not even close. It is waking each day with the same person willing to try to share yourself. For the rest of our lives what I will ask of you is taken from the Prayer of St. Francis. Make me a channel of your peace. Where there is despair in your life let me bring hope. Where there is darkness, only light and where there's sadness only joy. I pray that I may never seek, so much to be consoled as to console. To be understood, as to understand. To be loved as to love with all my soul.
I will hold your hand tightly when the sun shines in our lives and I will wrap my arms around you when the dark days come. Go where you must go and in my own way, I will follow. Say what you must say and I will respect you. Do what you need to, I will not let you down. I loved you then. I love you now. I will love you always."

This is what I know: I have been to many weddings in my life. The couple is usually  young, full of hope, completely unaware of what lies ahead. I think there is a feeling that if the day and the ceremony are perfect, somehow life will be perfect.
Last November, my Mom and Dad celebrated their 60th Wedding Anniversary. Last week Marty's parents did the same. We come from a long line of love. Commitment is a family legacy.
I spent the entire ceremony today trying not to cry. My throat was clogged with unshed tears as was every single person in that church. My friend and her husband have been knocked down in life, they have had the highest of highs, they have endured the lowest of lows. They held tightly to each others hands and said many of the same things to each other that Marty and I said 13 years ago. My friend told her husband in her vows, "You loved me when I was Unlovable." They have earned the right to be proud of their love.
In the past five years I have hurt Marty more times and in more ways than I can tell you. I have been unlovable. When you lose a child the odds of your marriage surviving are stacked against you for a reason. When you cannot hold yourself together, there is simply no way you can help any one else. I have not been a channel of any ones peace, when Marty felt despair, I could not bring him hope. When he felt sadness, so did I. You can't console, when you need consoling. I couldn't understand him, I could barely understand myself. What I wrote in 1999 no longer applied. I have begged Marty to leave me, I have tried as hard as I can to rid myself of responsibility for anyone Else's happiness. I let go of his hand and never once wrapped my arms around him. The words I said to him on that night of magic I failed at. But here's the thing, what I failed at Marty didn't. I spend alot of time trying to carry my sadness. I write, I quilt, I read, I talk with my friends, I try so hard to find ways to honor and remember Mike. Marty goes to work and he comes home and he trys to help me hold it together. In a moment of perfect clarity I realized that what Marty does to honor and memorialize Mike is this: he loves me. I am Mike's Mom, Marty loves me, even when I am unlovable.

My Grand-daughter was so grown-up today. Somewhere in the future the wedding I will be at will be hers. I would like to think I would have something to tell her but whatever it would be would only be words. Marriage is ever-changing and all-consuming. You are not the person 5, 10, 35 or more years into it that you were on the day you married. Today I would say this, "when you find the guy that doesn't leave when you tell him to go, who when you say I hate you, he doesn't say I hate you too, when you let go of his hand when you promised you wouldn't and he just holds on tighter. Marry that guy."

I loved him then, I love him now. I will love him always.

till next time.