Fifty-six years ago the story of us began. Always starry-eyed, I never could have imagined the path we would travel together. But travel we did, through radiant joy, heartbreaking sorrow, babies and war and the inevitable growing pains.
You have always been there, Lord, even when we deviated from the story You wanted to tell, and made something good and beautiful of it all.
I found this poem by Wendell Berry that says what I long to say so beautifully:
The Blue Robe
By Wendell Berry
How joyful to be together, alone
as when we first were joined
in our little house by the river
long ago, except that now we know
each other, as we did not then;
and now instead of two stories fumbling
to meet, we belong to one story
that the two, joining, made. And now
we touch each other with the tenderness
of mortals, who know themselves:
how joyful to feel the heart quake
at the sight of a grandmother,
old friend in the morning light,
beautiful in her blue robe!