The Bwessed Awwangement, the Dweam Wiffin a Dweam

This past weekend we attended the wedding of the youngest of us cousins on my mom's side of the family. And by youngest of us cousins, I mean that she is one or two years younger than I am...which was a big deal to me considering that we were BY FAR younger than the rest of the cousins - 8 or so years between the two of us and the youngest of the older ones.

But I digress. So we went to her wedding, which was gorgeous, and her new husband couldn't be any sweeter to her.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not under any illusions. I'm sure, like all the rest of us, they argue. Or quibble. Or nitpick over who left the dirty glass in the sink overnight. Or freak out because someone-whose-name-will-not-be-mentioned-here left his TOENAIL CLIPPINGS ON A MAGAZINE ON THE LIVING ROOM TABLE AND THEN SOMEONE-ELSE-WHOSE-NAME-WILL-NOT-BE-MENTIONED picked up the magazine and had toenail clippings fly into her face (that's happened to the rest of you, right?). Because life isn't clean and simple every single day. It's messy and it's gritty and life. just. happens.

And their pastor gave a great message. Their pastor said that (massive paraphrase here): this wedding day was The. Day. The bwessed awwangement, the dweam wiffin a dweam. The culmination of planning and working and creating an event to memorialize a couple's love for one another. And, like their brand new wedding rings, their marriage is shiny and clean. And today, they mean with all their hearts the vows they recited to one another. But someday, those wedding rings will have flaws and imperfections. They may not shine quite as brightly as they did the day they were slid onto those young fingers. And so too, a marriage can't survive without those little scratches and nicks. But a marriage survives IN SPITE of them. And that it is a choice to LIVE our vows to each other, not just in those heady first few months and years, but also when life hits like a ton of bricks. And also when the little nitpicky junk in life threatens to bring us down.

I think I use weddings as an opportunity to recharge my sense of commitment to my marriage and my Love. (Referring to R, of course, not to some generalized trope.) On the day we got married, I felt like the hoops were behind us. We had jumped through them all. I knew there would be problems, but I figured it would be "normal" things. I never dreamed we would face the disasters we've faced together. And I knew there would be slumps, where I did something stupid, or he did something MONUMENTALLY ASININE (as you all know, I never do MONUMENTALLY ASININE things), but we were in LOVE and that could overcome any of that silliness.

HAH.

Actually...

DOUBLE-HAH.

Some days I feel like every single sock left on the floor and every single plate left on the kitchen counter (and they're mine too, folks, not just his!) is a stone threatening to pull me under. Because I may have 86,400 seconds to work with each day, but they get eaten up pretty quickly, especially with a little man who can go through 5 pairs of socks in a day and a little girl who, well, she's a disaster, folks. So when my (devoted, giving, selfless) husband has to work 60 hour weeks for weeks on end and he's exhausted and wants to help but falls asleep right after the kids do, I am absolutely okay with that.

Erm.

I mean, I panic a little. And as the days go by and the minutiae continue to build, I PANIC. A LOT. And I freak out. And unfortunately, that panic and freaking out usually falls right down on the unsuspecting head of the person I love the most. And I mean, he's patient, but he's not a saint. So when I push and push and push, well, he's going to push right back (this is completely unfair, but I could write an entirely different post about that).

Anyway. So hearing this sermon about how renewing our VOWS (not just our commitment) to each other each day really meant a lot to me. I told you, I use weddings to remember how I felt walking down the aisle (it feels like a million years ago. No, really. a m-i-l-l-i-o-n l-o-o-o-o-n-g years ago....I once had a professor tell me I used too many parenthetical asides - is this true?!?) I remember the look on his face and the way my hands shook and the way I couldn't wait to get away from my father's side and to my husband's. I remember the smiles on our faces when our pastor pronounced us husband and wife. And these days, when the kids won't stop asking for food and help and attention and the chores keep piling up and he has to work too long and I am going ape-shit-crazy, it's pretty important to remember how sparkly and heady those first few months were. Back when the world was our oyster.

Okay, so, long story short. To my wonderful baby cousin Kerrie who Grandma absolutely did not love more than me, your wedding day was an inspiration to me to renew my commitment to loving and helping and obeying and directing this man who I love, and who helps me and obeys me and directs me. This is the man who I will love until the day I die, whose entrance into a room will bring a smile to my face (almost) every time, whose approval I crave and whose displeasure I most certainly do not enjoy. I want to remember that even when the laundry baskets are overflowing and I don't want to cook dinner and I want to fob the kids off the minute he walk through the door...that we chose each other. That we will continue to polish and refine our marriage just like we clean our wedding rings. (That's a thing, right? Grown ups clean their jewelry? ...I'll add that to my to-do list). I will remember that once upon a time, we looked at each other like you and your groom looked at each other this weekend. I will remember that even though life brings so much heartache, that this man is by my side for better or for worse.

Man....mawwiage...