erosion

I wonder if growing up and growing older is just this process of erosion and you are either what is eroded away or what is left when everything else has been.

My best friends' marriages are over. The artist formerly known as Frau Lobster and hereafter referred to as Mother Nature is now a single person again -- just this last week. And on the day after, the Cat sent me an e-mail to announce the sudden death of her 12 1/2 year marriage as well.

I look at T and think "how did we survive?" I thought this time last year we were the least likely to be married in August of '06. But here is the secret -- here's what I know. We both wanted it. We loved, we hated, we scratched, fought, cried, screamed, threw things, threatened, cussed and spat but in the end the solidity of our life together was too irresistable.

He is home for me. He has learned after all these years that when I cry all I need is for him to hold me. I don't need my problem solved and I don't need a reproach. I need a pair of arms and a strong chest. He's my best friend, the first person I go to with news or a joke. He is that which I prize above all else -- steady, loyal and faithful.

As for what I am to him, I can't say. But it must be something because when I was ready to let it all go, he held on tight for both of us. I do remember one thing he said -- that I was his rock.

This thing we have is not perfect. And the sandstorms have worn down parts of what we were. But when I look around now I see that we are still standing. And I am amazed.