I’m going to need you to tell me everything is going to be ok when I cry on their first day of kindergarten. I’m going to need you to hold me when the phone call of bad news comes in. I’m going to need you to drive after we drop off our babies at their college dorm room and to talk me down from trying to go rescue them from the bad decisions they will make there.
I’m going to need you to hold my hand while we sit together in the church pew at their wedding. And I’m going to need you to dance with me at the reception. And I’m going to need you to hold me that night while I recount all the memories of their little lives and cry about how they aren’t mine anymore.
I’m going to need you when the wallets and the schedules get a little bit looser. When there’s no one yelling for juice or covers or crying about non-existent dinosaurs living in their closets. When there are no bottles to wash and no toys to step on. When they are only here for the weekend, and instead of a month’s worth of questionable dirty laundry, they bring our grandchildren with them. I’m going to need you to buy me a porch swing and I’m going to need you to sit beside me and hold my hand and tell me how grateful you are for this life we built together.
And in the meantime of all this needing you, know this: I want you, too. I want you to be there with me every step of the way.
So if this means we sit in awkward silence while we wait for this phase of life to be over, that’s fine. I’ll just sit close to you so that you know I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. I might even hold your hand. The one that is not playing Cookie Jam, of course.
I love you, and I’ll continue to love you through all of it.
Silence is fine, as long as I’m with you.
The author addresses her critics! Read the follow-up post: “In Defense of My Weird Phase of Marriage” —–> here!
