I think it is appropriate to start this post with a link to this Little River Band classic. For 20 years ago three of us walked down the aisle as a married family – Andrew, Robyn and baby Juliet.
Wow. A lifetime ago.
Somehow we are still married. It certainly has not been a Mills and Boon romantic story. Romance? Andrew? Flying pigs? Life has had its ups and downs. Literally.
It seems appropriate to compare our marriage to life in post-quake Christchurch. I wait ages for Andrew to get things done. He communicates about things that matter about as well as EQC. Road-trips are never straight-forward. We always have to have detours. The house always look like an earthquake happened within the previous 24 hours. I won’t mention the similarity between Andrew and Gerry Brownlee in shape! Like progress on our house, that work is in progress! We have an orange road cone decorating our garden. But the spirit of togetherness and community keeps us going when time gets tough. Families that pee in the garden together, stay together.
Marriage is also like marathon training. To do it well you need a plan. My plan is to stick it out as long as I feel it brings me happiness and satisfaction. There will be times when it all feels too hard and you have had enough. Throw in the towel. Find a new hobby/hubby. But then you get one of those runs/days/times/things when it all falls into place and you remember how much you enjoy/love this and why you want to keep doing it. There are easy runs. Tempo runs when you struggle to keep up with the pace. Lots of slogging it out runs. Making up time and distance, hanging on for the finish. Sometimes it hurts. And makes you cry. Hopefully this is a temporary setback and you keep going.
So I wonder what Andrew would say about me if you asked him. Something along the lines of “Nosey, with a weird (wacky?) sense of humour.” And maybe a few other comments not suitable for public knowledge!
We are not really celebrating today. We don’t actually go in for big romantic gestures. However I have been told to be ready at 5pm on Saturday with an overnight bag and toothbrush. And I know that he knows that I want to know what we are doing. He is getting the last laugh – for once.
Here’s to sticking it out for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part.