A Day to Remember . . .

Let’s take a poll:

What’s nicer?

Young love? Or mature love?

Certainly love is always lovely, at any age.

But my vote in the poll goes to mature love, the love that two people find when they least expect it, maybe when they stopped hoping for it at all.

Young love is sweet but anticipated. We all expect our young friends and relatives to find love. We expect to go to an exquisite, big wedding and we hope that the love, and the marriage, lasts.

There’s something richer, deeper, more poignant and thrilling, to me, about mature love, though. Love between two people who know themselves well and have known love before, and who are lucky enough to find someone else who carries the same knowledge and is ready and enthusiastic for another ride on the merry-go-round.

Exhibit A:

Today, August 2^nd, is the fifth wedding anniversary of my mother, Evelyn, and her husband, John.

My mother had been a widow for 30-plus years and John a widower for long enough to begin to be able to consider another relationship.

They had known each other, as passing acquaintances, for some time.

One day, their paths crossed on a walk and he got his courage up and asked, “Do you play bridge?”

How lucky for us all that my mom could say, “Yes”! It’s enough to make a person take up bridge, just in case . . .

They married on our lawn at camp, with just immediate family, and the cats, present.

Photos were taken, champagne was sipped, a tear or two flowed.

Our very small family expanded by one and there could be no more natural and wonderful fit than welcoming John into the fold. We now cannot imagine our lives without him.

Evelyn and John, realizing that they would never achieve big, impressive anniversary numbers, decided to count anniversary months instead. We recently celebrated their 50^th!

And tonight we will celebrate their fifth. We have another perfect day to enjoy.

We will go to the same restaurant we visited the night of the wedding.

We will celebrate 5 years together but also what an anniversary always stands for—the confidence to believe that life with that other person is better than life alone, that a good marriage exceeds the sum of its parts, and that, at any age, love can come again.

Woven Together

The weaving continues.

We pursue it with the zeal of converts.

The fact that we are learning together adds to the enjoyment.

We talk about ideas and plans.

We bring different perspectives to solving problems, and four hands to the task make some chores far easier.

We definitely have different approaches. He tends toward complicated patterns and lots of bright colors. He wants to make exuberant table runners. He is bold and fearless.

I tend toward wanting to learn about different fibers and classic designs—twills herringbones, stripes. I want to make tidy dishtowels and scarves. I am methodical and want things just so.We approach weaving as we have so many things over 25 years—on equal terms, balancing the load, each with our own strengths, respecting what the other does better.

Strong fabric depends on warp and weft. Woven together.