Of Course

After several glasses of wine at dinner and the waiter's “special surprise” flaming green licorice drink, we followed the moon's pull to the beach. It was shocking how cold the sand was as we stepped bare-footed onto the reflection of the moon. Sea waves were gilded and glowing as they barely seemed to roll ashore. All of it together was a rhythmic slice of the cosmos that couldn't do anything in that moment but throb peace. Stars and stars and stars. Just to the right of the moon's silvery blare, Orion. He was the clearest I've ever seen and I couldn't stop staring. A shape patterned through a human lens, playing the role of guide or muse or myth-maker. Truth teller? The unending blackened depth of the cosmos is too much to bear. It's beautiful and terrifying and honest. Though we are alone on the beach, we whisper. My heart beaconed out over the sea – a lighthouse calling.

When he lovingly asked if I would do it all again, I smiled and sighed and knew I should say, “of course.” It would have been the truth in a million ways. Marriage is like that . . . gray areas where the hard work plays out – hazy and shimmering areas that prevent phrases such as “of course” and “absolutely.” At the end of the day, we are telling momentary truths. And I just don't see any way around it.

Dawn in this place is a new chorus of unfamiliar bird songs. So vibrant. So full. They escort me to the beach before it is warm and golden and teeming. Morning crashes in to fill the senses with every step towards now.

I am lifted. Unto One. Married. Unto All.