Marriage Vows for Those Whose Youth is Past

Hello Dear Ones! Today’s draft is a sort of test of the advice that I’m sure many of us creative folks have heard: the more specific you make it, the more general the appeal. Or something like that.

I promise to love all parts of you,

in function and dysfunction,

in strength and collapse,

in healing and in setback.

I promise to hold your hand until they wheel you into surgery,

to gently untangle your IV lines after, so we can walk the halls together.

I give you enough vegetables to make juice,

enough garlic to make your smoothies just this side of diabolical,

laundry folded and stacked four days before you need to travel.

I offer you fierce determination at the store

as I take the last they have of what you need,

tender patience at home,

as I massage your abdomen until your body remembers how to move.

I offer you mornings in each other's arms,

as we find the depths of love only visible once passion steps aside.

I give you my word that we will never miss a flight,

or run out of gas or toilet paper.

I give you my word that every household task serves

only to bless the space

of our quiet holy temple.