I’m struggling to find the right word to use here.
I’ve never really liked the word “spouse” when it comes to marriage. It sounds too much like “mouse” or “louse”, both of which have negative connotations, particularly when applied to the presence of humans. Who wants to know or be known as a louse?
Partner is better, but it doesn’t go far enough in terms of the permanence. Partners come and go throughout a person’s life. You might have had a dance partner in junior high P.E. class. At camp we used to have prayer partners that rotated among the staff every week.
I’m going to stick with “partner” for now, however, because that’s the word that first came to mind. Every year my husband goes away for 4-5 days in the winter. There’s a yearly conference related to his job, and this year it was held in the state of Arizona.
He’s never been there before, and I can tell by his pictures it’s a different kind of state. The plants, the views, the temperatures are all different. During the almost twenty years that I’ve known him, he’s not had many chances to travel this far without us.
The kids and I have been fine, keeping busy with school and guests We had company on Monday, and more Tuesday. My in-laws had us over for supper and a movie last night. Today we have piano lessons and his fight is supposed to get in tonight around 8:30.
Something happens in marriage that is hard to describe. I’m getting this strange image of two people walking, hand-in-hand, through the woods. Connected to both of their heads is a wired contraption made of paper-clip metal. The metal goes around their heads and then joins above them to form a twisted section until the pieces become one.
The couple keeps walking, hand-in-hand, leaving their footprints in the dust of the woods. The skinny piece of paper-clip lengthens and stretches and grows backwards behind them, to where it finally reaches miles and miles into the past. A broom appears.
The broom begins sweeping away the couple’s footprints. Attached to the couple by this stretched out wire, the broom can come no closer than the length of the contraption the couple wears on its head. New footprints, hand-in-hand, are always being formed.
Your partner, in time, becomes your mate.