When you are a blogger and it’s the eve of your 38th wedding anniversary, you start writing but are quickly convinced that every thing you might say about love or marriage or anniversaries you’ve said before – last year or the year before or ten years ago.
The years start melting, like all the little towns you pass through on a long road trip on a two-lane road.You remember the town where the transmission went out and the one with the giant juicy olive burgers but the rest of the towns, well, they’re just blurs. You know you drove through them because the map says so but their effects are muted, smoothed out, a tablecloth used for a hundred family dinners.
All I can say is that I am glad for this trip – for its patience and care and steady beautiful resolve to keep moving forward, for the many and unpredictable ways that love shows itself on long trips. I am glad that we are still traveling.