I Hope This is the Day I Love You Least

I hope this is the day I love you least.

My husband and I attended the wedding of a young couple. The groom had been my undergraduate student years before. I had met his wife, before they were even a couple, because he had sent her my way for help with her job search. She was a lovely, spunky young lady. She did improv, which seems like a kind of superpower to me. I had a sense he might be interested in her.

Fast forward to their wedding day, two Junes ago. A perfect, gorgeous Colorado summer day. The couple wrote their own vows. No improv, but some very sweet words out of the mouths of babes:

I hope this is the day I love you least.

Such a beautiful expression. They were the picture of young love, long white gown and tuxedo, smooth skin, full of hope, under the bright blue sky. A fairy tale wedding.

What would it mean for this to be the day she loves him least? An unbroken trajectory of increasing love as the months and years roll by. Under my wrinkles, I was thinking,

Oh, honey, you have no idea. There is so much less that you are going to love him.

Maybe you won’t fight about whether to save or toss the leftovers or whether the political sign can go in the yard. Or when it’s time to replace the car, discipline the child, or buy eggs. Your fights will be uniquely yours. I don’t want to scare you, but there might even be some hate mixed in. You might think back to that perfect June day and cry a little.

But then, if you are lucky, you survive the stresses. You are the couple who makes it (cozy with their steaming cups of tea, below).


Elsewhere on this blog, I quote Michael Lewis’ Home Game, “After every new child I learn the same lesson, grudgingly: If you want to feel the way you’re meant to feel about the new baby, you need to do the grunt work. It’s only in caring for a thing that you become attached to it.” True for all relationships, not just babies.

To the beautiful bride: sending you peace for the journey, grunt work and all.

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