Day doesn't come often
Jun. 5th, 2007 12:57 amSometime around now, in 1976, I met Arni... I was back in the barracks after giving my baby up for adoption (NEVER promise G-d you will obey a person who you barely know. "Love, honor, and cherish" is so very much better) and having my husband then leave me right after I got out of the hospital... it was a tough time for me.
Arni was standing duty in the barracks Master of Arms office and we talked all night. Literate, funny, so damned smart. I knew that night that I would spend the rest of my life with him. A year later, we married. He told me a couple of years into our marriage that he had chosen the date so I'd have a reason to smile when the season of my son's adoption came around. (For the record, I in no way regret the adoption. The parents-to-be were loving, sweet, smart - and the child I carried was guarenteed to know that he was where he was because the three of us loved him and wanted a good life for him. But I did miss him, and wonder about his life, and Arni saw it that.)
So today, while you are reading this, know that love can last. And partnerships, the true marriage of friends, aren't as rare as you'd think and can withstand some heavy hits... I married my best friend then and through the decades we've grown closer and apart, as folks do, but each time of closeness is deeper and more complete - every time. And the times of 'apart' are ones that we both recognise as moments when an individual needs to withdraw and re-learn who they are. Blessed is the spouse who can see and give that gift of independence to their beloved. Blessed is the spouse you can trust to always keep their word and your trust. Blessed is the lover who can forgive as well as be forgiven.
Thirty years, Arni. You don't read LJ but somehow you'll know how grateful I am to be writing this; for the love, for the faith, for the gift of your laughter, strength, and above all, the man inside who you share with me - thank you.
Arni was standing duty in the barracks Master of Arms office and we talked all night. Literate, funny, so damned smart. I knew that night that I would spend the rest of my life with him. A year later, we married. He told me a couple of years into our marriage that he had chosen the date so I'd have a reason to smile when the season of my son's adoption came around. (For the record, I in no way regret the adoption. The parents-to-be were loving, sweet, smart - and the child I carried was guarenteed to know that he was where he was because the three of us loved him and wanted a good life for him. But I did miss him, and wonder about his life, and Arni saw it that.)
So today, while you are reading this, know that love can last. And partnerships, the true marriage of friends, aren't as rare as you'd think and can withstand some heavy hits... I married my best friend then and through the decades we've grown closer and apart, as folks do, but each time of closeness is deeper and more complete - every time. And the times of 'apart' are ones that we both recognise as moments when an individual needs to withdraw and re-learn who they are. Blessed is the spouse who can see and give that gift of independence to their beloved. Blessed is the spouse you can trust to always keep their word and your trust. Blessed is the lover who can forgive as well as be forgiven.
Thirty years, Arni. You don't read LJ but somehow you'll know how grateful I am to be writing this; for the love, for the faith, for the gift of your laughter, strength, and above all, the man inside who you share with me - thank you.