A Love Story

 My friend Alan came to Port Townsend from New York to show new trims and ribbons for my shop. He often comes twice a year and we are able to sit, look at new wonderful sometimes shiny merchandise and have political discussions. We have been doing this for years, ever since I walked into his showroom in Manhattan 11 years ago. At the time neither of us imagined that our friendship would grow or that we would find common ground and look forward to our visits. He being a conservative traditionalist, even a republican and me being an ultra liberal arty sort.
Today, Alan told me a story. A story of how he views relationships of married friends. He said that marriage is like a river and a rock. One person is the river and the other the rock. The rock is solid, stands its ground and can't be moved while the playful river winds its way over, around and along the rock. He said two rocks together don't work because they crash upon each other and neither moves. Two rivers won't work because they just keep flowing and moving their own way. But a river and a rock, they work together. He said Phil was my rock, someone I could lean on and return to, who would stand his ground and let me be the river, moving around him, journeying onto other places yet  always returning to the rock. An intimate love story that is without end. Timeless. I was so touched by his story, this analogy of a marriage, that I could have cried.

Now, you know I am not telling the story of the river and the rock as well as Alan but I think the idea is clear. I will look at my marriage this way forever after. I am free and yet grounded by my rock. Safe, returning, ever moving, ever exploring and still protected. What an insight with beauty and sensitivity in his words.