Last week Darren and I celebrated our ninth wedding anniversary. On Saturday while we were walking around Fort Langley with our family Darren was horsing around on the train tracks, which always makes me nervous. He also does this when we are crossing roads. He will walk reeeeaaaaallllyyyy slowly, just to tick me off because he thinks I am too worried about non-existent cars crashing into us. I am worried about cars crashing into us, but I don’t think it’s silly. Nevertheless, this has become a great teasing point for him.
After horsing around by himself, Darren grabbed my hand and we started walking together, hand in hand down the tracks. Pretty soon we started to go faster and faster, trying to outrun each other. (There may also be a slight competitive streak in our relationship.) I was moving faster than I had expected. As we went faster we let go of each others’ hands and…
…both of us immediately started to wobble. Neither of us could go as fast separately as we could together. If that isn’t a metaphor for marriage, I don’t know what is.
I think one of the things I like best about that metaphor is that as long as we are supporting each other, as long as we are linked together, we are fine. Even if we are competing against one another, playing a comradely game of one-upmanship, we are fine as long as we stay together. You could even say that the competition was an essential element that allowed me to surpass my expectations. But as soon as we lose that link, as soon as we place our desire to “get ahead” above who we are together, everything fell apart.
Here’s to at least another nine years of competition and companionship, of encouraging and supporting each other through whatever Life sends our way.