mo anam cara

Years ago I coined the phrase "epic tales of retrospect" which, to me, meant that we have a habit of retelling life's stories as more tragic, more fantastic, more disastrous, more romantic, more...epic than they ever were in reality.

Like that 50 year plus marriage of the two white-hairs who still can't seem to keep their hands off each other? The way they met in high school, courted, were separated by war, united and dove headlong into marital bliss? Aren't we all hoping that life, love, romance, marriage and family life will be "that" perfect? But...what is "that" perfect?

Do we consider happy couples to have lived movie-like romances or are movie-like romances retold by couples who prefer to focus on the details that were happy?

Isn't it just a matter of perspective?

Don't we find what we seek for?

I can tell you that I've found The One. I can tell you that he's my soul mate. Have we fought, frustrated each other, contemplated running away, shut down, tuned out, rolled eyes, cried and died a thousand little deaths? Absolutely.

Was it love at first sight?

In retrospect, yes.


"Nearly all marriages, even happy ones, are mistakes: in the sense that almost certainly (in a more perfect world, or even with a little more care in this very imperfect one) both partners might be found more suitable mates. But the real soul-mate is the one you are actually married to."
- J.R.R. Tolkien (in a letter to his son)


"...oftentimes the Loved Ones, though twenty thousand leagues away, recognize at once the responsive note of their destined Lover; and, penetrating the paltry obstacles of distance, Love unites..."
- Edwin A. Abbott, Flatland (1884)

Why would you think your boy could become
The man who could make you sure he was the one?
The one
My one
My one
- Feist ("The Park")

m-a-r-r-i-e-d

"Before I met my husband, I'd never fallen in love,
though I'd stepped in it a few times."
(Rita Rudner)

Late last night, when Andrew dropped me off at my apartment, he expressed wide-eyed fascination? panic? awe? with the prospect of being married in four months' time.

"I mean, I'm going to be married. Married. Married. M-A-R-R-I-E-D, married. Waking up to the same person every morning, planning a life together, RSPs, married."

Yes, RSPs.

Yesterday marked four months until our wedding date. I keep saying it to myself thinking that it will become more fascinating? scarier? more awe-inspiring? but, for me, it only evokes serene contemplations. Which, for those of you who know me, seems like an oxymoron.

I've been working out my personal fears for a while. I'd say thirteen years. Nik, a loyal friend and sometimes therapist through my university years, used to tease me by saying, "I don't know of anyone who analyzes more than you do and yet gets less than nowhere with it." (or something to that effect...sorry, Nik, for the paraphrase) As I spun my wheels, however, I think God helped me work out some of the kinks.

Like: Why is it always "pastor's wife" and never "pastor's husband"?
Like: If I get married, will I still be able to do the things that I like?
Like: Can I live multiple lives in other dimensions whereby I can be a loving wife/stay-at-home mom with a litter of kiddies AND travel the world meeting new people AND be a Pulitzer Prize-winning novelist and professor?

My year spent in Korea helped with the process. Not only was I getting most of my AWOL tenancies out of my system (whilst God kept subtly pointing out lyrics such as "lights will guide you home" and "the ships have come to carry you home") and my independent, isolated existence was losing its novelty, but I also faced questions about fear head-on in September 2005.

And God's love won.

"He is love. And if He's writing my story, then whom shall I fear?"

And it's interesting to see that Andrew was himself traveling and contemplating in September 2005:
"I’m ok on my own but I don’t want to be ok on my own… it would be nice to have a wife here with me."

To answer Sherri Byer's question posed to me on Facebook this morning:
"Now, the question is, and note the distinction: are you counting down the days till you get married, or are you counting down the single days?"

My answer is both. And I'm celebrating both.

"My bounty is as boundless as the sea,
My love as deep; the more I give to thee,
The more I have, for both are infinite."
- Juliet (Act II, scene ii)

sailing, sailing, over the ocean blue

My step, my swing, my song conveys to all

That out of mind and deep in love am I;

The mooring lines are loose, my port of call

The ceremony when our knot is tied.

But this is not a tether I have known

Of hand or arm, of neck or other part,

The less we strive the tighter we are sewn

Together, lightweight cords from heart to heart.

He's from my hopes, he's made of every dream

And out of all the stories I've been told

A whisper can be heard, "It's as it seems -

The best is yet to be, so let's grow old!" *

One thought pervades as sails unfurl at sea:

The promise of my husband yet to be.

* props hereby given to Robert Browning