Monday, July 22, 2013
When The Bohemian, Quaker Mama Contemplates Writing Her Wedding Vows
Miminalism encourages us to focus on what matters most to us. In my own process of clearing out my space and psyche, I am reminded how much love means to me. I don't know how it gets any more essential than love.
This is a piece I wrote a few years ago celebrating the love I found after divorce and babies.
Dedicated to those who continued to believe and found love later.
I'm not a blushing bride in white and you're not a knight in shiny armor (fairy tales really are over-rated). We aren't young lovers with stars in our eyes, dreaming of babies, careers and growing old together.
We're older now. I don't know about becoming wiser with age, but there is clarity and peace, an absence of doubt about who we are and where we are going. We have a few character lines, just a little somethin' to hold on to and baby, gray is very sexy on you.
Most evenings, I am feelin' good from one of your meals and a belly full of laughter. We spend our evenings talking politics, world affairs and sometimes
about our children who call to tell us their latest drama (okay, my girls talk about drama), and I can sense the pride you feel about your boys even though you try to mask it. They are fine young men who are very much like their Papa.
We've spent some years together now. There's no need to rush down the aisle. We've done that before. This time we're not running towards happily-ever-after instead we've found heaven on earth in each other's arms.
While you're not my first love ( and thank Maude for it because when I was younger, I didn't have the best judgment), you are more love than I could have ever imagined. I'm so grateful you accept me for who I am. I'm glad that at this stage in our lives, love is what we give not what we're desperately seeking. I'm glad you came along just when you did. With you, I don't need to be or do anything different than who I am. We are everything I want.