Eleven years ago this summer, Kate and I went down to the Ramsey County courthouse in Saint Paul and got married. That chapter of my life—and this chapter of my life—was entirely unexpected. I was accustomed to living alone, and fiercely protective of my solitude and my private rituals and nocturnal routines. But here, still, we are, exactly where I want to be, and my lovely, fierce, funny, and tender-hearted wife has taught me so, so much, all of which can be boiled down to this: Anything, really, is possible.
I wrote these words the day we drove downtown to get our marriage license, and we took this picture—our reflection in a stray lens from a pair of sunglasses—in the parking lot of the courthouse.
Be like the fox
who makes more tracks than necessary,
some in the wrong direction.
Practice resurrection.
__Wendell Berry, “Manifesto”
In time’s short light, and less than light, we pray
that odds be thus made evens….
—Wendell Berry, “A Marriage Song”
May we be gentle. May we be brave. May we be merciful. May we pay attention, to each other, to the world, and to those on whom we depend, and who depend on us.
May we look closely at the beautiful things and the hard things. May we work together through the challenging and glum and harrowing times, and when we are together may we never feel alone.
May we laugh often, dance often, celebrate often. May we laugh through our tears and laugh until we cry. May we give thanks, for each other and for our undeserved blessings.
May we have good health, and when we are stricken with illness may we get well.
May we share our good fortune, with each other, and with others.
May we endure every long winter and cherish every spring.
May we spend quiet time together, and may we make exultant noise.
May we pick each other up when we fall, carry each other when we are too sick, tired, or weak to go on, and sweep each other along when we are seized by joy.
May we point out to each other the things that alone we would not see or notice.
May we stand up for what we believe, be not afraid to speak the truth, to combat lies and injustice. May our compassion extend beyond our own home, and our own lives.
May we feel at home together, and in the world. And may we make of our love a home, and when we are apart may we look forward to returning home.
May we make of our two stories one more, ours.
May we be tender and passionate, and may our passions be fierce.
May we push each other to be better, to be kinder, to take more risks.
May we dream together, asleep and awake, and when I close my eyes at night may my sweetest dreams be yours.
May our hearts be true, and when we drift into darkness may we call each other back to a better world. May we hold each other tight during the scary parts.
May we see each other clearly, without undue scrutiny, and love what we see.
May we make precious memories together, and cherish those memories when we grow old.
May we hold onto each other for dear life, and know, from our lives together, what dear life means.
And “may we always have each other, and want to.” (Les Murray)
Ummm...wow, just lovely, all of it. I just started a glass of wine as I catch up on stuff on my computer screen. If I had read this after the second glass I'd be in tears. I married my best friend, too, 20 years ago next week. I don't deserve her but I fall more in love with her every year regardless. Congrats, man, it's the good life—no small thing. You did it.
True Love !