A Burden Shared Is Half The Trouble. A Joy Shared, Is A Joy Made Double

Dear Boo and Bubble,

As you know, your Aunt Bee just became engaged to be married to Uncle Drew. All the talk of wedding plans and accompanying festivities has me a little reflective, if not nostalgic. Captain and I have been together for a little over 40 years now. That is certainly enough time to consolidate some impressions of what the relationship of marriage means and requires.

Marriage is very much like a prized orchid.  It must be adequately enriched, properly watered and given a nurturing environment - never to wither from neglect. Marriage is like an intimate tango, it must be rehearsed constantly until the dancers can sense each others' movements with only the slightest of touch. Marriage is like a high wire act.  It must strike a delicate balance between pushing and pulling, giving and receiving, praising and critiquing, encouraging and discouraging, spontaneity and habit - never tipping too much one way or the other.

Marriage must be both unguarded and enduring, based upon the full acceptance of all frailties, vulnerabilities and strengths. If it is, forgiveness and understanding flow, not stubbornly, but with an ease that only love allows.

For me, beyond all else, marriage is a committed partnership, free from dominance, where joys, sorrows, pleasures, burdens, responsibilities and exemptions are shared. 

If you're very, very lucky, all of these elements come together over life's time and experiences to create such a taproot to the relationship that nothing can destroy it.

I found this poem in one of your great, great, great, great grandfather's scrapbooks that seems to say it better than I possibly could.

Katie Lee and Willie Grey - by Josie R. Hunt

Two brown heads with tossing curls,

Red lips shutting over pearls,

Bare feet, white and wet with dew,

Two eyes black and two eyes blue.

Little girl and boy were they.

Katie Lee and Willie Grey.

They were standing where a brook

Bending like a shepherd's crook,

Flashed its silver, and thick ranks

Of willow fringed its mossy banks -

Half in thought and half in play,

Katie Lee and Willie Grey.

They had cheeks like cherries red,

He was taller - 'most a head;

She with arms like wreaths of snow,

Swung a basket to and fro.

As she loitered, half in play,

Chattering with Willie Grey.

"Pretty Katie," Willie said.

And there came a dash of red

Through the browness of his cheek -

"Boys are strong and girls are weak.

And I'll carry, so I will,

Katie's basket up the hill."

Katie answered with a laugh,

"You shall carry only half."

And then, tossing back her curls,

"Boys are weak as well as girls."

Do you think that Katie guessed

Half the wisdom she expressed.

Men are only boys grown tall;

Hearts don't change much after all.

And when, long years from that day,

Katie Lee and Willie Grey

Stood again beside the brook,

Bending like a shepherd's crook.

It is strange that Willie said,

While again a dash of red

Crossed the browness of his cheek,

"I am strong and you are weak;

Life is but a slippery steep

Hung with shadows cold and deep."

"Will you trust me, Katie dear -

Walk beside me without fear!

May I carry, if I will,

All your burdens up the hill!"

And, she answered with a laugh,

"No, but you may carry half."