Everyday, I stand at the front doors greeting people of all shapes and sizes. I can tell their moods by their speech, facial expressions and even body language. Giving people a Holmes-esque superficial rundown has become almost second nature and, children exempt, married couples are the most fun to read. I recently overheard someone talking about a Shauna Niequist book and how she relates life to seasons. I believe the same can be said for marriage.
As newly blossomed springtime marriages walk through the door the extent of their commitment is not readily apparent and can only be validated by checking her baby soft ring finger. Judging by the size of that diamond, Watson, I'd say they're fresh out of college. They sit, never in a hurry, holding hands across the table. Sweet lovers do love the spring... Maybe I played ball against him in high school or went to college with her brother. They come and go leaving little impression on me except the sad realization that people my age can pull it off. It was just a lover and his lass. As the newly weds evolve into parents, things get more interesting. They walk through the door each with a kid in hand barking commands like they're leading a team of sled dogs. They always need a high chair...or two, or three, and always have a baby on the way. These tables, or families as you may call them, are entertaining and allow me to bask in the radiance of a chaotic summertime marriage. Dad always has jokes, Mom never thinks they're funny and neither has quarters for the claw machine. As the leaves turn the nest empties and things slow down. These couples walk in with an accomplished grace about them. They always have some wisdom to impart and after short conversation the crease in their brow tells me their concern for me is real. There are very few things in life I appreciate more than the encouragement they give. A blanket of white then covers the heads and purifies the love of those who, by now, have stayed true to their vows through better AND worse. Despite the name, a winter marriage is the warmest and most comforting season to wait on. These, however, are only the observations of one who accomidates the needs of these people for a single meal of one day.
In the midst of these unconfessed changes in my feelings towards marriage my mother gave me a terrifying surprise. It was Christmas morning and I had been warned that, since money was tight, I wouldn't be getting anything big. This was fine by me. I never liked people buying me things anyway. My younger brothers passed out the presents "ooh-ing" and "ahh-ing" every time they saw their name. I opened one box to find Queen Anne's chocolate covered cherries. I had gotten these every year for as long as I could remember. Next a holiday assorted nut mixture. Then some bamboo bowls. This went on until I only had a small cylinder shaped tin left. I opened it and dumped the contents on my lap. It contained a ring box and a small note. I turned over the note to find,
"27 years... for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health. Your PaPa wore this ring as a symbol of his love for your Granny."
I looked up and mom said, "I feel like it's time for you to have this now. I know you don't say so but I think you're ready." I got up to hug her as tears fell down both our faces. There it was. I didn't know what to think. The person who knows and loves me more than anyone felt as if I was ready to take up the same responsibility my PaPa did when he stood in front of God and everyone else and vowed to love Granny until death did them part. And it did. Granny was only 42. It was only summertime.
And so now I ask myself, "Am I ready for this?" Or is this a part of life I can be content just waiting on...
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