| Sunny Side Up! Sept. 26, 2001 � 2001, Kathleen Gibson A good marriage takes more than two The Waskesiu River ambles through here, where we stand. It riffles over rocks, gathers in still pools, murmers around sharp bends. There are sedge grasses, rocks swaddled in orange lichen, and golden-eyed ducks diving and dipping for plankton and whatever else is on the menu below the glistening surface of the river. Rick and I have been hiking this week, exploring the back country trails in Prince Albert National Park. We left this short one for the last because it was the easiest. It�s taken us up and down, over root-riddled trails for a mile or so, then onto smooth boardwalk that meanders alongside the river. We were ready for the boardwalk. Our prairie, city feet haven�t been so challenged since we moved from our home on the Niagara Escarpment ten years ago. So we sit on one of the benches provided, rest our feet and gaze out. We are quite alone, except for the ducks of course, and all the minute river life invisible to the human eye. It�s nice, being alone. It�s only our second vacation without our children, and it�s our twenty-fifth anniversary. A quarter of a century is a long time to stay married to one person these days. Last night at the restaurant, we were asked if we were celebrating something. (Was that because Rick was the only man wearing a a tie?) The waitress expressed amazement when we told her. �I�ve been married five years,� she said, �and my husband thinks it�s twenty!� Sitting here, appreciating the Waskesiu, I reflect that a marriage, if given a chance, is a lot like a river, complete with riffles, rapids and pools. We love the still pools, with their breathtaking scenery and peaceful settings, but few of us find the riffles exciting, and many bail out long before they hit real rapids. We could have too. There were times when both of us wanted to. We hit riffles immediately after our marriage. In the car, on the way to our honeymoon spot in Cannon Beach, Oregon. �What highway do we take from here?� my new husband asked. �I don�t know.� �What do you mean, you don�t know? You made the arrangements.� ....We got there eventually, barely speaking and long after the registration office had closed. An ominous start for a honeymoon. Yet here we sit, twenty-five years later, and the river gives a picture of why we�ve survived and thrived within in the eco-system of marriage and family. When we exchanged our vows a quarter of a century ago we invited a third party into our partnership. God got into the boat with us, and when we hit the rapids and one or both of us wanted to bail, we felt His tug on our shirttails hauling us back in. We wouldn�t be sharing this river without Him, and we�ve invited Him along for our next twenty-five years too. Riffles, rapids, pools, and all. You can respond to this column at [email protected] |