林中漫步 一起慢慢变老

A walk in the Woods together

This I believe. These days everything is political, even the romantic relationships between consenting adults. Only a few states allow sin sex marriage. More have passed laws and constitutional amendments that prohibit gay couples from enjoining the legal benefits of marriage. Politicians and church groups have gotten lots of attention by railing against the so-called threat to marriage between heterosexual couples.

Many gay people including This I Believe essayist Cindy Lollar say marriage is a basic civil right, but also something that does not require the blessing of the state. Lollar says years of love and shared experiences are what make a marriage no matter the sexual orientation of the couple.

When Greta and I celebrate our 20th anniversary this year, I believe we will do so as a marriage couple, not in a legal sense, for marriage quality is probably a generational way, but in the best most important sense of the word “marriage”.

When we met, Greta was unacknowledged of alcoholic and I was recovering from a near fatal hiking accident. Well, it appeared to be an accident. I had tried to cross some mossy rocks at the top of a small waterfall, and had fallen about 30 feet, badly breaking my leg. The friend who had saved my life didn’t know that the despair had led to look at those dangerous rocks and carelessly think “oh, what the hell.”

None of them knew I was a lesbian, I barely knew it myself if knowledge includes a kind of ownership. Now I recognized my homosexuality is a profound yet unremarkable aspect of my nature like being right-handed or female. But back then I didn’t know how I was going to make my way in the world that so violently wished I didn’t exist. I was yielding to that the violence when I stepped out on those rocks.

And then I met Greta. She was now my first love. But she is my great and lasting love. With Greta, I have entered into marriage. And she endured the physical and emotional turbulence of addiction recovering, so she could be more engaged in our life together. She married me. When I confronted the inner demons that made me used words like nice in an argument, I claimed her as my spells. We forgive each other, if not right away, then in the forms of our neutral devotion. We laugh, and play an utter intimacy. We hold each other’s best self to the line. So we’re better daughters, sisters, citizens and friends.

The feast of new love now more closely resembles a pot of chicken soup. But nothing is more nourishing through our daily rounds. We walk along the dogs, we attend the celebrations and sorrows of our family and friends. She urges me into our garden when I need to renew my hope, I shine her beauty from my eyes when she doubts where is worth to be seen. Meanwhile, the soup is always on, simmering and fragrant. We are grateful. There is no thirst or hunger like that for life-long love. Greta and I have pulled our chairs up to the marriage table despite the lack of a formal invitation.

We are middle-aged now. Greta’s back is bad and I grind

my teeth at night, old day stands just over there at the edge of our woods, but we will walk in those woods together no matter what. I believe when we die, we’ll die married, for better or worse. What else could that possibly mean?

Cindy Lollar’s a writer in college Park Maryland, our essay was produced by Dan Gatemen and John Gregory, and it’s featured in the new book. This I believe on love. Next week we will hear from a man in Massachusetts, who learnt the value of helping others by following his father’s example, if you like to write an essay about the core belief, that guides through your life and submit it to our series, go to the website thisibelieve.org.