Can it really have taken me
sixteen years to realize you can
live in the same house with someone
and still lose track of them?
We occasionally lose
each other, somewhere among
discarded Legos and Everest piles
of laundry, too many words to be written
or deciding the best way to teach
or the size of the solar system. Our words
cross and mismatch and fall,
seeds on parched August ground, hard
as pavement. Is
there a more complicated maze
than the everyday household routine?
Is there anywhere easier to lose someone
than in the daily humdrum of a life?
The two of us
we go from found to lost
in the time it takes to zombie-walk
to the baby’s bed at 2am and fall
asleep on the scratchy carpet, in the time
it takes to nurse a child’s hurt feelings on
the third floor, coming back to bed
only to find the
other has already fallen asleep.
Maybe the key to this thing called
isn’t remaining in love
(Lord knows I love you)
or sticking to those vows
(rules parch and crack and can’t
keep a meaningful thing together)
the key is finding the energy
to keep finding each other again
They leave us after dinner, all
five children, and we’re staring
the vast distance from one end of the table
to the other, because a family this size
requires a large table, and the distance
from one end to the other
can feel like the span of the Sahara. Lost
But then one of us moves closer
and we talk quietly while the sound
of their steps rains down from above.
Or we walk this city in which I love you,
breathing in the lights
remembering the sweet feeling
that casual ecstasy
of being found again
by someone you have loved for so long.
Maybe the key to finding each other
is discovering ways
that we can get lost
all over again. Maybe the seeds
that fall on pavement can still
find the winding crack
and sprout green life
in this city.
I decided to walk away from my Facebook and Twitter accounts in June (you can read more about that HERE), at least for a time, so this little space of mine depends entirely on you to spread the word. If you read something you enjoy, please share it.
Also, if you’d like to receive my twice-monthly newsletter (basically a few bonus blog posts every month plus information on upcoming books) you can sign up for that HERE.
Finally, if you’d like to receive these blog posts directly in your inbox, just enter your email in the field at the bottom of the right hand column. Thanks!
8 Replies to “The Secret to a Happy Marriage”
Lost and found. And, man, I get the big table thing. Big and Loud. Funny how lost and found is child’s play, it all depends on how you look at it, always remembering to look and that someone else is looking for you too. Lovely words and images Shawn.
Thanks, Kelly. It always seems to come back to child’s play, doesn’t it?
Beautiful. Just beautiful, Shawn. Thank you for the reminder. It’s so easy to lose sight of what is right in front of us. But those are the very things we would miss SO much were they taken away.
Holy smokes, this is good, Shawn. Right on target. And that little phrase, ‘casual ecstasy?’ Love it. Thank you.
Diana, I’d imagine that, having a few more anniversaries under your belt than I do, you’d be able to speak into this as well. Losing and finding. Does it ever stop? I’d guess not.
I’m new here, followed Sarah Bessey’s link on Facebook. The hubby and I don’t have any children but I can relate so well with losing someone in the everyday routine of life. This is beautiful.
Thanks, Kelsey. I’m glad you’re here. I think being aware of this constant losing helps in some way.
Comments are closed.