When a writer gets engaged and plans a wedding, there is writing. Lots of writing. Robert and I will be married on April 2nd;I’m sure I’ll write about it. We’ve decided on the details, handed over the numbers for the supper, chosen the music to dance to, met and gotten to know our pastor and his wife, figured out what to wear, what to sing, what church to gather in, and of course, what dessert to have! And I write:
We never really dated-we just came together in every way that has meaning, and we’ve always been there for each other. When his arms wrap around me, pulling me close, I am reassured that I belong without condition, and my day is not complete until I hold him close and tell him that I love him.
We are partners and companions, friends and lovers. I want to be kind and compassionate to him, listen and support him, love his family and have him love mine, have him hold onto me fiercely when I’m afraid or can’t go on, and let me hold him when he’s down or mad or just because I can’t help it.
We love to look at the sun rising or setting, watch the bulls in the pasture, the stars in the night sky, ride, shoot and drive antique tractors, and go for long drives just to see something new.
I want him to grow old with me, to tell me his dreams and let me help him realize them, and to have him do the same with mine He knows that he can trust me with his heart and that I will always hold it dear, will nurture and respect it, shelter and revere it, loving him without holding back, like the Earth loves the sky through bright blue, fierce steel-gray, the complete dark of night and the first pink wash of dawn.