We Married In a Chapel Called Our Lady of Good Voyage
from Out With Lanterns, a daily poetry practice
At the altar, I looked out the stained glass window so I wouldn’t cry. I wanted to weep all that day. What did I know? That I was making a promise that felt too enormous. That our boat could sink. That there was no guarantee of a good voyage. The dark arc of the blue glass window held me more than the dress and music and flowers, even his hands. I stared at the light bending sapphire, a welcome refraction, and decided to trust my gut, which whispered so quietly: Marry this kind man. It has been twenty-five years since that day. Tonight we had take-out pizza and ate salad from the same bowl. Our two children are almost grown. When we visit the church, I always make sure to nod to the window, to the light.
It took four times, but I've been happily married for 36 years next week. Congratulations on your 25 years!
Oh, how sweet! Makes me tear up a little. I'm not married, but I feel like we're told so often that if you have any doubts at all it must not be the right thing, that everything should just click-- but there are sometimes complicated feelings, even in our happiest moments. This is so beautiful, thank you for sharing.