"You make concessions when you're married a long time that you don't believe you'll ever make when you're beginning. You say to yourself when you're young, oh, I wouldn't tolerate this or that or the other thing, you say love is the most important thing in the world and there's only one kind of love and it makes you feel different than you feel the rest of the time, like you're all lit up. But time goes by and you've slept together a thousand nights and smelled like spit up when babies are sick and seen your body droop and get soft. And some nights you say to yourself, it's not enough, I won't put up with another minute. And then the next morning you wake up and the kitchen smells like coffee and the children have their hair all brushed and the birds are eating out of the feeder and you look at your husband and he's not the person you used to think he was but he's your life. The house and the children and so much of what you do is built around him and your life, too, your history. If you take him out it's like cutting his face out of all pictures, there's a big hole and it's ugly. It would ruin everything. It's more than love, it's more important than love."
I came across this quote rereading Anna Quindlen's One True Thing and it seems so apropos today, my fifteenth wedding anniversary. "Wow!", some of you must be saying, "Her marriage must really be on the rocks for her to reference this quote on her anniversary." But I feel quite the contrary. After fifteen years of being married to the same man, I am proud to say I feel this quote summarizes my marriage, and marriage in general, pretty well.
Of course, this passage is about a cheating husband, so let's ignore that part, but if instead you define the "I won't put up with another minute" as the incessant leaving of socks on the floor and dirty dishes in the sink, or insistance on watching The Bachelor, we have all had those moments where you look around and say, "This is not what I signed up for." How did you go from gazing longingly into each other's eyes, to barely glancing at each other over the dinner table while trying to cajole the products of your love into please eating their broccoli? From not being able to tear yourselves out of bed to threatening your significant other with ejection from said bed if he farts like that again?
In between these moments of boredom, annoyance and hard work, are the brighter moments of romance, fun and camaraderie that make it all worth it. But are those moments enough? I believe they are. I believe marriage is a work of pointillism. Up close, it looks horrible and messy and doesn't make any sense, but look at the bigger picture and you see how all these small moments, when viewed as a whole, come together to create a beautiful life.
Another thing I love about this passage is Anna Quindlen's honesty, having her character admit "he's not the person you used to think he was, but he's your life". Who is that person you feel in love with? Where is he or she now? You probably aren't married to him or her, but to a person who vaguely reminds you of that person. After fifteen years of marriage (and twenty of partnership), I can say with complete conviction, I am not the girl H married. How could I still be after all the highs and lows that life has thrown our way, and not to mention, three children?
You are a different person now. Certain parts of your personality, left unchecked, have become more dominant as circumstances have dictated. Some of the same things that drew you to your partner, have morphed and are probably among the things that drive you craziest. His single-minded focus for things he is passionate about was fun when that thing was you and, later in life, has made him successful, but it also forces you to occasionally have to pry the Blackberry out of his cramped hands. And your knack for planning sure came in handy when you were back-packing through Italy, but now drives him to drink when you can't seem to have an un-planned Sunday. But hopefully through the years, you have grown in complimentary ways. Like two rocks rubbing together, you change, but, in response, so does your partner, yet you still fit together.
So Happy Anniversary, H. No, we're not the two kids in the picture anymore (clearly, neither one of us has the same hair color), but I like this us better. Life has put some bumps in our road for sure, but it's always been OK if you were riding with me. And you let me drive. And bring a map. And pack the snacks.
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