We’re entering the last portion of our earthly togetherness, my husband and I. Perhaps we’ll have a decade or two more here with each other… but perhaps not. As awareness of our mortality draws nearer, we’re surprised by the sweetness of its presence.
✧ We’ve drawn closer to each other.
✧ We enjoy small things we’d have previously ignored.
✧ A glance at each other brings smiles to our faces.
✧ My heart lifts when I drive up and see he’s already home.
✧ He looks up as I walk into the room … and it’s so fine.
✧ Time together has an ease to it.
✧ Meals stretch into long conversations about the day’s events, family events, theological musings, philosophical musings, puns, and stupid jokes.
✧ We sense each other with increased intensity.
✧ And moments, even brief moments, have new depth.
We (of course) still irritate each other, but irritation has a context: love. We see each other’s faults … but care about them less.
Two greeting cards he’s given me capture this season of life well. One card reads: “Sometimes when we’re lying in bed, I look over at you and think, ‘I am so lucky,’ Then you start snoring in that snorty way, and I think, ‘Well, that’s annoying, but I’m still lucky.’ Happy anniversary.” The other reads: “God must have sent you into my life so that there would always be love in my heart. Happy Valentine’s Day to the one meant for me.”
Oh my. Such sweetness this time holds! It’s taken us years and years to learn, but now? Now we are tasting the ripe fruit of learning to love. Thank you, Lord, for all life’s lessons that brought us to this time.
Marriage: The Ripe Fruit of Learning to Love
© Lynne Fox, 2015