I can see Parke and I fifty years in the future just covered in grandchildren. Parke will have a wooden leg from World War III. He’ll be tapping his wooden leg on the front porch, yelling at the grandchildren to get out of the flowerbed. I will be shrunken and plump after baking hundreds of children, er, I mean, batches of chocolate chip cookies. We may be a little crotchety, but we still are crazy for each other.
Although our marriage has had its typical ups, downs, kids, a dog, and a mortgage, there is an additional ingredient in our marriage. It’s an eternal commitment. Waiting to marry the right guy, in the right place, at the right time proved that God knew what, and who, I needed. I’m so glad I listened! Not only am I passionate about Parke in a surprising-him-at-his-office-with-nothing-under-my-trench-coat kind of way, I love him as a friend and companion as well. Our love continues to grow every day as we cultivate our relationship. I love Parke more than I did on our wedding day; more than I did when we had our first, second and third child; more than I did when I sat by his hospital bed wondering if he’d make it through the night.
I surrendered to his love ten years ago. Every moment of every day, I am not alone, even when I’m alone. He is part of me and all of me. Our love has been a crescendo; a symphony of experiences that make our commitment strong and beautiful.