Our 8th Anniversary: My Wife's Smile

Today is the 16th of August, 2011 and it marks Becky's and my eighth anniversary. As a celebration of our marriage and in gratitude for my beautiful bride, I am posting one of my journal entries from last month.

On a breathless July evening in England, Becky and I went for a walk. There was not a hint of wind and the temperature, if there was a word to describe it, would tell of something between cool and warm. We ducked out of town and strolled up the hallway of swaying giants that leads through Rothamsted Park. We passed under the leafy branches like a bride and groom walking beneath an arch of swords.

Passing from the soft hue of green bathing the arch, we opened a kissing gate and walked into a weary field. There we watched an unfurling blanket of mist tucking the field in for the night. We walked apart, each of us immersed in the solemn serenity that accompanies such unearthly twilight stillness. Then we drew near through the misty veil, doubling the delight of the experience as we shared it together.

Becky and I walked on, captivated by the blanketed field. A large manor house stood off to one side with an iron rooster gazing down on our dreamy delight from his pinnacle. It was as if we were lingering in a dream trying to allow the misty scene to settle so we could recall it when we awoke.

Tinged with the slight sorrow that comes from the knowledge all such dreams much pass, we headed back to our flat. As we strolled by a patch of willows dozing in a nearby field, Becky spotted a fox. We watched as it scampered around and whispered off through the grass. Moments later we noticed a pair of foxes alternately frolicking and resting in their sleepy field. They paused, staring at us as we looked back; mirrored stares.

To use a phrase that Claire surprised us with the other day, the beauty we behold was so bright that “it stung our eyes.” Our very souls had been refreshed by this evening amble. As we passed back through the arch of swords on a now damp sidewalk, I mentioned to Becky how exquisite the pleasure was that I enjoyed in her company. And then it came like the glorious flames of a sunrise, lighting up the then dusky evening; Becky turned and smiled up at me. The holy delight was as much in her eyes as it was in her lips. Her countenance was layered with meaning.

If I were an ancient theologian I may attempt to draw out the meaning of her look by searching for the literal, metaphorical and spiritual meanings.

As it was, I was able to glean from her holy treatise several revelations. The first was a pure delight in the love she recieved from me. Secondly, her eyes gave a lyrical look that sang of her own vivid love for me. The third I perceived to be a stream of admiration and respect. Beyond these three was a mixture of other sentiments coming from the mysterious depths her heart. My soul smiled up at God expressing gratitude for such an undeserved gift I had received in Becky. Turning this gratitude towards her I said, “such is the greatest smile that a man can experience on this earth."