Patsy's Post

Today, in my short trawl through my favourite blogs, I found Patsy's post.

And it made me think, long and hard, about love and finding love and growing in love and living in love and, well, about all the aspects of love.

Patsy referenced a movie she'd just watched and liked this quote:

That's just it. I don't know that Paolo's the love of my life, but I've decided to give him the chance to be. Maybe true love is a decision. You know, a decision to take a chance with somebody. To give to somebody. Without worrying whether they'll give anything back. Or if they're gonna hurt you, or if they really are the one. Maybe love isn't something that happens to you. Maybe it's something you have to choose.

I know I've been very silent here since Steve and I started our life together. Some of you may be wondering if everything is OK between us. I'm glad to say it's more than OK, it's wonderful in every sense.

I'm not saying it's perfect, goodness knows we have our ups and downs like everyone. We have our differences in opinion. It hasn't been an entirely smooth ride, I'm not breaking any confidences by saying this and I know Steve reads my blog, still. Tempers do flare, without a doubt, and we argue sometimes, too. But we have weathered all the little bumps with a great sense of humour, an understanding and an acceptance of all we are and always will be. As individuals and to each other.

I often reflect on the the slim thread of fate that brought us together, a thread that could so easily have broken before anything happened. I reflect, too, on our decisions and how they could have been different, or influenced, or even rejected by one or the other. Getting to the place of our future together was also fraught with obstacles and was not an easy journey. But we got there in the end and I still smile when I remember our trip to Santa Fe in March 2008. What started as an opportunity to spend a few days together ended up with us joined together for life.

Most of all, this imperfect woman reflects on the imperfect man I'm married to, and whom I will grow old with, and I thank my lucky stars that we're together. I still wake up during the night and look over at him, and smile. My heart is at peace. My present and my future are filled with affection and respect. Love binds, but love also frees.

At our wedding ceremony, the minister closed with this:

Apache Blessing:

Now you will feel less rain for each of you will be shelter for the other. Now you will feel less cold, for each of you will be warmth for the other. Now there is less loneliness, for each of you are companion to the other. Now you are two individual persons, yet there is a joined life before you. May beauty surround you both in the journey ahead and through all the years. May happiness be your companion and may your days together be good and long upon the earth. Treat yourselves and each other with respect, and remind yourselves often of what brought you together. Give the highest priority to the tenderness, gentleness and kindness, which your connection deserves. When frustration, difficulty and fear assail your relationship, as they threaten all relationships at one time or another, remember to focus on what is right between you, not only the part which seems wrong. In this way, you can ride out the storms when clouds hide the face of the sun in your lives; remembering that even if you lose sight of it for a moment, the sun is still there. And if each of you takes responsibility for the quality of your life together, it will be marked by abundance and delight. Go now to your dwelling place, to enter into the days of your togetherness, and may your days be good and long together.

I loved the words, the ideology. We're living it now and to this, I say:

Hell, yeah!