Standards for living

My primary example for marriage was not a good one. Stony silence, or worse, polite conversation was the order of the day, as each of us moved in elaborate dance steps, trying desperately to ignore the problem that ate with us at dinner and tucked us in to bed at night. We all dealt with it in our own way - my father tried to be The Perfect Husband - cooking and cleaning, but not dealing with his anger issues or his resentment at my mom's withdrawal. My mom worked constantly, viewing 60-hour weeks and extensive travel as a way to cope until she felt my brother and I were past the age for drawn-out custody battles and summers and holidays in separate houses. My brother rebelled, pulling pranks that were not quite bad enough to get him arrested but were just enough to pull my parents' attention toward him. I simply tried to be perfect, getting good grades, joining everything from the cheerleading squad to the science club, and eventually establishing what I came to view as my handpicked family built from a group of tight-knit friends.

I'm realizing now just how strongly my idea of marriage as a "fortress for well-being and salvation" was influenced by the way I grew up. Marriage should be a place of safety, comfort, and love - but also an institution that is prepared for challenges and attacks, from within and without. There will be bad days, and worse days, and days where it may seem easier to just quit. That is when I must remember that I DO want what I grew up with - fighting and determination and stubbornness - but I will fight the desire to give up when life's challenges seem to be more than we can handle. I am determined to build a marriage that is worth defending - and one that will last forever. And I will stubbornly, stubbornly cling to the idea that it IS possible to be one-half of the old-couple-holding-hands-on-a-park-bench who love each other for the best and despite the worst.

"You may not remember the time you let me go first. Or the time you dropped back to tell me it wasn't that far to go. Or the time you waited at the crossroads for me to catch up. You may not remember any of those, but I do & this is what I have to say to you: today, no matter what it takes, we ride home together." - Brian Andreas