When we were very young

I was watching Andre Agassi and Pete Sampras play an exhibition match. They're both 40 now, just about the same age as me, and seeing all those old clips, remembering the passion of their rivalry, and the passion with which Tim and I cheered them on, brings back a flood of memories from the early days of Tim and my marriage.

This summer we'll celebrate the 25th anniversary of our first date, and our 20th wedding anniversary. Those are pretty giant milestones. I'm so thankful, beyond words thankful, indescribably thankful, for my amazing husband, our marriage, our relationship. Don't get me wrong - we have bad days, fights, large and small disagreements, just like every other couple. We have no magic potion, no miracle cures, no secret to a good marriage, but after all this time we still love each other. We still have fun together. We still want to be married to each other.

It hasn't been a particularly easy road, but is anyone's road easy?

We started out with grad school days for Tim - late nights and long hours for 6 years, but I have great memories of the camaraderie among Tim and his classmates, listening to his stories, explanations of his projects, squeezing in the few hours we could get together - a few dinners a week, those precious weekend days when he didn't have a project or a test due. The joy of watching him in his element, at his very best, not just succeeding, but soaring!

I remember the giant swell of pride as Tim received his M.S. and Ph.D. Is that what a proud parent feels like? I could have burst!

There were years when we struggled over the decision of whether or not to buy a $100.00 futon for our living room to replace the horrible couch our landlord had given us permission to discard. Could we afford that new pair of shoes? Should we spend the money on an anniversary date? We saved our pennies to make it through each month - and make it we did.

Then we got hit with those years of my mom's illness, and those years when I was laid down with bronchitis time and time again. And then the migraines came, and we both tried to figure out what to do, how to handle this new thing. But again, we made it, helped each other through, did what we needed to so we could keep laughing, keep some semblance of perspective.

I could go on and on. And on and on, describing the ups and downs of 25 years. My mind is full of memories - like the proverbial slide show of our lives. Ordinary days, holidays, time with friends, time alone, trips, vacations, sweet moments, bitter arguments, tough decisions, disappointments, floundering our way through, and flying high. Life.

And this wave of almost melancholy sweeps over me. Is it middle age? Is it the passing of time? A poem I wrote in the spring of 2005 comes to my mind...

Seasons

Here comes spring

slowly, slowly,

creeping toward my garden.

I'll wait 'til she steps foot in my yard,

then draw upon her warmth for inspiration.

This new plant, that spreading vine

bring to mind

the passage of the years

and the things that change in time.

Middle-aged am I?

What is thirty-five?

Time passes quietly, without a whisper.

The paving stones of our lives.

Time does indeed pass quietly, leaving a wake of memories and moments, captured in our minds like a spider in ancient amber. We can pick it up and look at it, the memory made more beautiful over time, set it down and look at another. Then turn our gaze to the present, the future, and get back to that basket of laundry, those bills that need paid, that man who needs dinner. And smile.

I don't know that my life so far has been any easier or more difficult than anyone else's. All I know is my own personal experience. I am thankful to be able to say, once again, that I have a good life. I am so often reminded of this by love shown to me, amazing things that happen, a good laugh with a friend, a fun time with a nephew.

Life is hard. That's just about guaranteed.

So you'd better get the most out of it - laugh as much as you can, enjoy each sunny day just for the quality of the light itself, rejoice in the sound of those raindrops, and the sound of your kids, and the voice of your beloved. Because, at least it seems to me, the good sure does outweigh the bad.