Twenty-nine years ago today, I was a young bride about to walk down the aisle to my handsome groom, waiting for me at the altar. Twenty-nine years. That's a long time!
Recently, my daughter included a wonderful quote on love in one of her posts. I think it sums it up perfectly:
"Love is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion. That is just being “in love” which any of us can convince ourselves we are. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident. Your mother and I had it, we had roots that grew towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossom had fallen from our branches we found that we were one tree and not two."
So, today, as my husband and I celebrate twenty-nine years of marriage, I would add only one thought to that quote. Not only, have our roots entwined together, but they have gone deep. Today, those roots, first planted in shallow soil, are so much deeper and stronger. Their strength has sustained us during the inevitable storms that come in life. And I'm confident that they will continue to do so in the years ahead!
Recently, my daughter included a wonderful quote on love in one of her posts. I think it sums it up perfectly:
"Love is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion. That is just being “in love” which any of us can convince ourselves we are. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident. Your mother and I had it, we had roots that grew towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossom had fallen from our branches we found that we were one tree and not two."
So, today, as my husband and I celebrate twenty-nine years of marriage, I would add only one thought to that quote. Not only, have our roots entwined together, but they have gone deep. Today, those roots, first planted in shallow soil, are so much deeper and stronger. Their strength has sustained us during the inevitable storms that come in life. And I'm confident that they will continue to do so in the years ahead!
1 comment:
Congratulations!
Post a Comment