Marriage and Monarchs

Today marks a week since marrying the love of my life. Yes, we were impatient, and, on a whim, decided to get married during spring break. There are certain aspects of one’s life that are just built around certainty. And when that certainty is fluttering in front of you like a Monarch on a warm summer day, it seems absurd to toy with the notion that encapsulates its beauty.

From the birth of our relationship, I have not once doubted my love for Kevin. In fact, I have felt an innate connection with him that I can only compare to the bond twins share. I suppose that is the feeling of connecting with one’s soulmate, but, being the synonym seeker that I tend to be at times, I try to stray from words and phrases that are cliché.

I have never been happier in my life, and I can speak for my children as well. They have embraced this transition in our lives as if they, too, have sought and found that missing portion that creates a familial bond. Never once have they questioned my decision, and the metamorphosis that has occurred in their emotional well-being alone took the time it takes a butterfly to cycle from a chrysalis to a lovely adult.

It is an amazing feeling to awaken each morning knowing that God believes you are deserving of something as special as the gift with which my family has been blessed. For many years, the struggles that ensued with each step forward I would make, forced me to settle for mediocrity. I am grateful that my modus operandi way of thinking was eventually disrupted, and is consistently being cultivated by the love of a man whose heart I can only imagine possesses the colors of the wings of that Monarch.

Immeasurable Peace

Up until now, I’ve not felt any insecurities in regards to my relationship with Kevin. I suppose technically my insecurities are not related to the relationship, per se, but instead to the emotional toll the inevitable separation is having on me. Perhaps even us? I cannot speak for anyone else involved, but I am not one to place focus strictly on myself, and therefore believe that the emotional roller coaster to which I have succumb is not only impacting my personal life but also the lives of my family members.

I am notorious for pushing people away when I feel I am losing control of my independence. I think that is what worries me most. That independence to which I am accustomed does not particularly have anything to do with physical autonomy, but rather a well-balanced mental state of which no one should be able to repress, at least in my previous opinion of the matter.

A few days ago, I got upset over something that was really quite trivial in the grand scheme of things; however, because I was having to fly back to New Mexico—leaving my family behind once more—my reaction was rather exaggerated.  Unfortunately, I told Kevin more than once to take me to the airport. Looking back, I’m not sure if that was part of my infamous barrier trying to regain its structural balance on my psyche, or if I couldn’t bear the thought of Kevin seeing me at a weak point in my life. The latter seems sufficient.

Whatever it is, I know this relationship is unlike any I’ve ever had. I know that, for the first time in my life, the idea of trying to hide or run away from someone doesn’t seem so appealing. Whereas before I was under the impression that detaching myself was not only to protect my own heart but the heart of others as well, I have unexpectedly come to the conclusion that that is not what I want for this partnership.

Before Kevin, I felt no guilt or apprehension about being alone. I felt it was my destiny; I was content with that and in fact could have wanted nothing more. Now, however, I cannot imagine a life without this man with whom I have felt an affinity since the first day we reunited. My life with Kevin was predetermined long before I had a say so. I realize now that one cannot avoid God’s plan, and that is the true concept of immeasurable peace.

The Faith That Built Me

I went to the cemetery yesterday. I hadn’t planned on going until a song came on the radio. The artist sang of the home that built her and how touching that place might heal her. Lately I’ve been missing my grandparents. I’m sure some of that melancholy stems from the dreariness of the season, but for the most part, I wish so much that they could witness me at the happiest point in my life. As a child, I was often sad, and although I thought I hid it well, my grandfather would often slip into my room and throw out small hints of encouragement. As a teenager, that sadness turned me into a recluse and ultimately into a person who was cynical in regards to human nature. That cynicism grew and forced barriers as strong and biased as the Berlin wall to rise, thus distorting any previous chance I might have had at trusting mankind.  My grandparents always shared words of wisdom in an attempt to reassure me that, although life was full of trials and tribulations, the reward of simply living was enough to overpower all suffering.

It’s funny that it took me so long to understand the message they were trying to convey. In fact, it seems that many messages in regards to faith seemed to have gotten lost in translation along the road I travelled. I suppose that happens to most people, but after having felt the dichotomy of the before and after, it all seems so obvious, and, therefore, I find it almost comical that I was so blind to what was evident all along.

Yesterday, the cemetery was no longer a realm of sorrow and seeing the names of my grandparent’s and Kevin’s dad etched in stone didn’t render me into depression or regret, but instead, I felt an overwhelming sense of peace.  Five months ago I would have wept, but as I stood there, I thanked all three of them. I simply let the west Texas wind carry a long overdue message of gratitude to the two souls who built me, and the one who helped guide my soul mate to me. Unlike the artist strumming her guitar, I have learned that inanimate objects such as that grave where the shell of our loved ones once lay are not what give us strength, but instead it is through the faith by which those loved ones lived that we have been given the gift of love here on earth.