Marriage . . . and memorabilia

This morning, I went into my walk-in closet and sat on the carpet beside a shelf that has become my catch-all for paperwork, old Mother's Day cards, random receipts, and other children's drawings, personal notes, and love letters from my husband.

In the middle of my sort-and-throw mission, all the memorabilia came together in my mind and began to synthesize into a mental collage. . .

Marriage is a strange, strange thing. Its earliest days are all about me and us - as documented in the treasury of love letters from our courtship. There is very little in those first moments of us and we that has anything to do with the broader picture of the good that marriage can bring to the world.

But a pile of old memories reveals a different story.

Those early love letters took another direction. I would argue, they were replaced by something of even greater value.

Our love, our marriage became a place where our children learned to love (represented by drawings and cards) and learn (represented by old report cards) and thrive (represented by band competitions and drama performances and graduation programs).

Now, we have just one child at home. The others are off and married and beginning families. I realized that the more recent memorabilia had to do with our conversion to the Church. Prayer books and devotionals. Receipts from charitable contributions. Sunday parish bulletins.

The next decade will bring new challenges and opportunities. We'll decide whether or not to act on our non-profit idea. We'll complete degrees and continuing-education goals. We'll strive more and more to become holy and faithful and the saints we were created to be.

The marriage is less about me and us, and becomes more and more about a process in which life and love finds its broadest and deepest meaning.

A Sacrament, where God moves - and where we realize that the love we share is greater and stronger and more resilient and fertile than it has ever been because we let our definition of love grow.