We've had a month. A month of family trips, hot-as-hell days, and a funeral for my grandpa. I struggled with what to bring to you today, what part to grab hold of and make forever. Then the program that's laying on a counter in the garage nudged me.
I think about what people will say at my funeral more than is socially acceptable. I wonder what it is that I'll be remembered for and then I prioritize my life accordingly. But, after my grandpa's funeral, I've been thinking about what people will say about you. And I know it's what they said about him: he loved his wife good until the very end.
Sixty-nine years of marriage, ten kids, further generations that total more than 100, many professions to be spoken of and what people said about Grandpa Frank was how deep his love for his sweetheart Catherine ran. Truck driver, key maker, marine, father, and yet it was his devotion to her, his place at her side, his fingers entwined through hers that made the lasting impression.
On the drive home I asked what part impressed on you most and you said their love. I said the same. You looked at me with the coy smile that precedes sarcastic words and said, "don't you wish you someone loved you that way?" I didn't have to answer with anything but a hard, honest laugh because we both know: I've got it with you.
I know sixty-four years from now I'll love you more than I do today. I know sixty-four years from now I'll still hunger for your warmth, your strength, your patience. I know sixty-four years will hold kids, heart ache, and hope. I know sixty-four years is a dare to cling, to care, to love. And, it's a dare I'll take as long as it's with you.
I don't think everyone who marries can say -five years later- how every day is better than the day before. I don't think everyone gets to say they chose a winner for all the days of their life. I don't think they enjoy the feeling of a love that grows with each passing sunset.
I can only imagine the depths of a love that's outlived wars and cars and depressions and peaks. Sixty-nine years of marriage is miraculous. And I'm thrilled to be part of the next miracle with you.
How deep and wide my love for us,
- - - - - - - - - - -This letter is one in a series of letters I write to remember mundane moments of my marriage that would otherwise slip away. I write with a dedication to hold tight to him and to remember how life looks right now at this very moment. The chance for these letters to shed light on our marriage before children for our children because they won't know us as newlyweds is a much loved and added bonus.