Monday, October 17, 2005


Sitting in my mother-in-law's kitchen this morning, I said to her, "Watch. Brian knows I need to leave at 10:30, so he is going to walk in the door at 10:35 and say, 'You ready?'" No kidding - he got back to the house at precisely 10:35 and said, "Hey, you ready?"

This is what I love about being married.

I love the sameness of it. When we were dating, I couldn't possibly have grasped how our lives would meld into one. But I didn't lose my identity in the process, the way you might expect. We still disagree, but I know him so well that I already know what his arguments will be. I know his sense of humor so I know what the joke will be before he says it and am already rolling my eyes before he starts laughing. Isn't this what everybody wants? To know and be known by a person completely? The other night, I overheard his phone conversation. As he was explaining why I felt a certain way, he said exactly what I would have said, and he gave the same reasons that I would have given, even though we hadn't specifically talked about the question he was answering. He knew without asking how I would respond.

I think one of the most beautiful ideas in all of life is this one, the idea of sharing the whole of your life with one person. Most people are overwhelmed by the thought of just one person. But I'm overwhelmed when I think about the whole of life - the births and deaths we have seen and will see together; the friends we will know, and then won't; the places we will move to, love, and then leave; the families we will share, and then bury. The whole of life ... No matter how exhilarating or traumatic the moment, at the end of it, we get into the car and drive away together. I can't imagine my life any other way.

In closing, I leave you with Sandra McCracken (thanks Mary). She does a much better job of giving voice to my thoughts tonight.

Springtime Indiana
You are sleeping by my side
Here across the miles we ramble
Past where the road divides
I wish I could tell you…but I just can’t find the words

I’ve never been good with my thoughts
And even worse with my words
But you read like familiar poetry
That I have never heard…
I wish I could tell you…but I just can’t find the words

So let’s move across the ocean
And pitch the tent stakes wide
You be the one to come after me
And I will be your bride…
I wish I could tell you…but I just can’t find the words

I am all at once courageous
I am all at once afraid
It came over me like nightfall
Like a freight train
I can’t seem to hold it in
But I can’t seem to run away

You came in without notice
And settled all around my heart
Took up residence in all the places
That were vacant and dark…
I wish I could tell you…but I just can’t find the words

Springtime Indiana
You are starting to wake
And I am laden with the thoughts
Of everything I mean to say
I wish I could tell you,
But I just can’t find the words.


Liz said...

Stephanie and Brian - this is a beautiful picture - one that I have loved watching over the years, as you have moved, loved, lost, buried, welcomed and helped. I can only pray that one day I find someone in whom I can share that kind of depth with - someone who will know me, my thoughts, fears, dreams and prayers. Thank you for being such a great model of a Godly marriage!! I love you guys!!

Nick M. said...

Amen, and Amen!

Madame Rubies said...

This is wonderful Steph, and it explains some things I have been thinking lately. A while back, I wrote a poem called "Stay" to express the same sentiment.

Martha said...

Qué sentimientos hermosos, Stephanie. Si no puedo visitar con usted por el teléfono, es agradable saber que usted está haciendo bien -- apenas voy a su blog. Yo apenas dejado en Gato el gato vía la ventana. Él me vio a través del cristal y ronroneado, así que abrí la ventana. Él era así que sorprendido. Buena noche a usted. ¿Las cosas no suenan mucho mejor en español? Su papá fuera de volver la batería que él compró y que acaba de intenta instalar en mi coche. Dang Autozone. Cuando él se retira, su vengeance debe ser que él toma un trabajo allí y da a cada uno las piezas incorrectas por años.

Stephanie said...

What does this say?

Stephanie said...

First, a moment of silence as we all wonder how and why my mom commented in Spanish ...

Second, a rough translation:

What beautiful feelings, Stephanie. If I cannot visit with you by the
telephone, he is pleasant to know that you are doing well -- as soon as I go to his blog. I hardly left in Cat the cat via the window. It saw me through the crystal and ronroneado, so I opened the window. It was so surprised.
Good night to you. The things do not sound far better in Spanish? His
papa outside returning the battery that he bought and who finishes
of tries to install in my car. Dang Autozone. When it retires, his
vengeance must be that it takes a work there and gives to each one
the incorrect pieces per years.

Madame Rubies said...

I understood it better in Spanish. LOL!

Ciona said...


Your mom speaks Spanish?