the phrase lingers in my mind, as does its matching title.
he wears a tungsten ring, with pewter's dark hue - none of the dullness and all the ring of light.
the ring is heavy and large. so is his love for this family. he made us into one, accepting all of my baggage and past and insecurities, and he has co-created three, some resemble, one does not except in spirit, and he loves us so full. he leaves us, for work, and the hole is heavy and large.
our love has to be resilient. we weather the mundane, but often peppered with impatience and irritation instead of calm and grace. we resolve long distances, but "i need your help" can sound more selfish than "i love you with all of me, and it rips me wide open when you leave me." the dependency can wear on him even as i'm wearing three boys and wishing the thrill in my heart were louder than the din of all this crazy-love, just the sound of his voice at the end of a tired day.
our love has to be strong but supple. we bend as reeds under the weight of grace, for we've worn out our welcome on resentment and pride and self-sufficiency.
our hands lock, my thin glints shiny-white next to his dark slash, our hard metals melding into one, like flesh, like soul-meeting.
i'm joining, once again, ann's marriage series for the month of june. stop by the rest of the community and say hi!