I share these thoughts written on my son’s wedding day many years ago. I share them in hopes they will express the feelings of young lovers or encourage those of you, who may have lost your first love, to look for it and recapture it. You may be thinking, "You don't understand. It's been so long; I have completely forgotten what love looks like." Let me help you in your search through reading my son's wedding letter.
"Today, July 15, 1989, is your wedding day. Thirty years ago I married your father. During these years we have come to know what committed love really is - exactly how it feels and what it looks like.
Your love is young and strong today, and you know perfectly how it looks. Nevertheless, through the years and tears you may lose sight of it. Whenever you do, I hope this letter will be a gentle reminder. What does love really look like? It has many faces and moods.
Today love is beautiful and elegant. Yet, there will come days when it becomes plain and homely from work and stress. You may still call it love. It is candlelight softness right now. But, one day, it may have to become hard and tough. You may still call it love.
On this, your wedding day your love is courageous and determined. Know that one day it may be fearful and weak. You may still call it love. Optimism and enthusiasm can be seen in your love painting today. One day despair and hopelessness may splash across the canvas. You may still call it love.
After your wedding march can't be heard or even remembered, committed love takes over. Remember this, one thing committed love doesn't do is to keep score; and it never throws in the towel. It may want to, but it can't. Why? Because of an old-fashioned commitment that was made years ago.
Today it seems you can legally get out of anything… from taking a life to destroying a relationship . You are making a love commitment today. May it last forever 'till death do you part.
What a precious Mom-letter--a classic on marital bliss! I so enjoy the way you unlock mysteries of proven love with poetic brushstrokes. Today Chuck and I celebrate our 18-month wedding anniversary (we have to catch up with you long-termers, y'know!). He'll enjoy reading this to me as we rock by our 'twilight window.' (Just one suggestion for the end of the first paragraph:"...in your search through my son's wedding letter." There may be other fuzzy-brained readers who, like me, would be helped by a verb here ("through reading my son's wedding letter") to keep us on your thought track.) Thanks so much for a great piece!