Often I say snarky things. Most of the time, I say them to Baby bee. And more often, I hear him say back, beneath his breath, "I have; I am; I am." And it was just two years ago, or perhaps what sometimes feels like forever, that we first said those words to each other.
I always imagined I would walk down the aisle, arm locked in my father's, toward a goal. More importantly, toward a man. But I was never quite sure who that would be, or even who I would be. I was an independent woman, of 32, who lost much but knew one thing: I was loved. And as Edelweiss was beautifully intoned on the organ, I walked as gracefully as one can in a long wedding gown towards the man who would hold my forever.
And today, we celebrate ourselves as cotton. Last year, we were paper: fragile and inexpensive. Something that we write our goals and life's deepest darkest secrets upon to remind us that we are each other's intimate diary. This year: cotton. We celebrate the need to remain strong and pliable. We need to remain available to change.
This year we imagine ourselves as a tapestry interwoven within each other. A need that is often forgot. We imagine the other as the single bright thread that is interwoven throughout. In fact, it is even hard to imagine our tapestry without that single thread. To look back at the times when we were not holding each other, shows nothing but the idea of empty intimacy. It shows nothing but vacant want and desire that was only to be satiated within the other.
So, we have. We are. We are. We have come together without coercion. We are prepared to love and honor each other as long as we both shall live. We are prepared to bring God to our children. These are the promises I hear him chant when I become hard to endure. These are the words I hear him repeat when I seem inconsolable. These are the words that are written deep in my heart because a country boy gave me a chance...and kept giving me a chance until I turned down his road, one fateful day, cursing my fate and allowed him to be woven into me.
We are cotton. We are strong. And we will, by the grace of God, continue to remain pliable to change. To another year, my love. And many...many more to come.
I always imagined I would walk down the aisle, arm locked in my father's, toward a goal. More importantly, toward a man. But I was never quite sure who that would be, or even who I would be. I was an independent woman, of 32, who lost much but knew one thing: I was loved. And as Edelweiss was beautifully intoned on the organ, I walked as gracefully as one can in a long wedding gown towards the man who would hold my forever.
And today, we celebrate ourselves as cotton. Last year, we were paper: fragile and inexpensive. Something that we write our goals and life's deepest darkest secrets upon to remind us that we are each other's intimate diary. This year: cotton. We celebrate the need to remain strong and pliable. We need to remain available to change.
This year we imagine ourselves as a tapestry interwoven within each other. A need that is often forgot. We imagine the other as the single bright thread that is interwoven throughout. In fact, it is even hard to imagine our tapestry without that single thread. To look back at the times when we were not holding each other, shows nothing but the idea of empty intimacy. It shows nothing but vacant want and desire that was only to be satiated within the other.
So, we have. We are. We are. We have come together without coercion. We are prepared to love and honor each other as long as we both shall live. We are prepared to bring God to our children. These are the promises I hear him chant when I become hard to endure. These are the words I hear him repeat when I seem inconsolable. These are the words that are written deep in my heart because a country boy gave me a chance...and kept giving me a chance until I turned down his road, one fateful day, cursing my fate and allowed him to be woven into me.
We are cotton. We are strong. And we will, by the grace of God, continue to remain pliable to change. To another year, my love. And many...many more to come.
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