growing old together – Writing Between the Lines

The Object of My Affection

It will be thirty-one years next month since Thom and I sent out this wedding invitation.

(designed by my sister Constance, poem by Langdon Smith).

In his wedding vows Thom borrowed this passage from Robert Browning, “Grow old along with me! The best is yet to be, the last of life, for which the first was made.” I thought they were sweet words, but I was slender and pretty, with my whole life ahead of me; I could hardly imagine growing old, let alone growing old in concert. Now I understand their import, and cannot believe my good fortune in having found such a wise old soul in such a young man.

Thom gave me the world. With him I made my very first trip overseas, back in 1987. We spent five weeks exploring Britain and Ireland.

We loved traveling so much we went back to Europe the next year. That was to be the trip of a lifetime, so we hit all the must-sees: Rome, Florence, Venice, Paris, The Swiss Alps, Munich, Vienna, Madrid, Barcelona.

But instead of the trip of a lifetime, it became a way of life.

Travel is still a vital part of our life journey together. I now see myself as a global citizen. I wonder at the similarities between cultures, and celebrate the diversity.

We have shared this gift with our children. We took them back to all the hotspots of Europe. But the kids were good travelers and, with their encouragement, Thom and I have gotten more adventurous. We have taken them to the Australian Outback, the Amazon, and Turkey.

I’m not surprised that both kids have grown up to be writers, storytellers, artists, and travelers, who are bilingual and trilingual.

Should I ever question my choice in a mate, I need only look at my children. Through their eyes I see a better world, and am a deeper participant in life.

Dear Thom…

…You have always been and will always be the object of my deepest affection.

Click here for more interpretations of The Weekly Photo Challenge: Object

Weekly Photo Challenge: Together

In a museum in Vienna we saw statues of ancient Egyptian pharaohs, usually standing alone and looking very grand. Occasionally one was portrayed with his spouse, each sitting upon a throne, like salt and pepper shakers; a matched set, but separate. Then we came to a sculpture of an Egyptian couple sharing the same seat, a simple stone block. I don’t remember who it was, some Ramses or other, but it didn’t matter. He leaned into her ever so slightly, and her arm rested gently on his back in such a fond and tender gesture that it warmed the stone. Not just mummies waiting to happen, they were flesh and blood humans who must have loved as tenderly as we do. Togetherness for all times, and all time.

In Vienna we visited The House of Music, where we saw this Mozart Family portrait. Seated at the piano were young Wolfgang, his sister Maria Anna, and their father Leopold. Anna Maria, Leopold’s wife and the mother of his children had died, but they couldn’t think of having a family portrait painted without including her. They commissioned a portrait of the deceased Anna Maria within the painting, which strikes me as sad, but sweet. Togetherness in any case.

Oh, my gosh! I look at this picture of my husband and kids at an open-air history museum in Switzerland, and while I laugh aloud just to look at it, my heart is melting. My sister Con says the one who wields the camera wields the power; if you are aiming a camera at folks and ask them to jump off a cliff, she says they’ll do it for the sake of the shot. This photo might be taken as proof of Con’s theory, but I took it as proof of their love for the family photographer and to a certain sense of loyalty and fun. Togetherness at any price!

But if I had to choose one photo to depict what “together” means to me, it would be this one snapped in the streets of Orvieto, Italy. It brings to mind the marriage vows Thom and I made to each other twenty-nine years ago. “Grow old with me, the best is yet to come…”