“I don’t know if I should care for a man who made life easy; I should want someone who made it interesting.”
Today is our sixth wedding anniversary.
Hubby and I like to challenge ourselves with the traditional anniversary gifts and the sixth year is Iron. (An immediate moratorium on buying a clothes iron was instituted)
It’s meant to symbolize the strength in a marriage. I think of the idioms for Iron such as “iron-clad”, “all oak and iron bound”, “iron something out”, “an iron fist”, heck, “Iron Man” is the most indestructible of the super-heroes. It is the main ingredient in steel. Iron is strength, resilience, steadfastness. I find it so fitting for the sixth year of marriage.
People talk about the first year of marriage being the hardest. And maybe it is for some. For us, it was a cakewalk. The sixth year though – the sixth year was when the world decided to see just how strong we were. And boy, did we show it.
Iron is at it’s purest, a fairly soft metal. It is made stronger by the addition of impurities. When it is exposed to the elements it rusts, flakes off a layer and reveals a new, fresh surface. If left unattended and un-cared for, it will eventually crumble into a rusty pile. I can’t think of a more appropriate metaphor for a marriage, for our marriage.
I look at that picture, one of my favorites, of us walking away from our wedding. We didn’t know where the path would lead, but we knew we wanted to walk it together. We’ve added and subtracted to that soft core of love along the way, always emerging stronger, tougher, tighter clasped to one another. We’ve weathered challenges, rusted over and flaked off, to charge ahead anew. We’ve attended to our marriage, protected it and watched over it.
We aren’t just Iron-clad baby, we have an iron core.
I gave Hubby a cast iron heart. He gave me an iron chain bracelet. Symbols to remind ourselves what WE are made of. But I need only look at my husband – at the little “impurities” that have emerged since that day in the picture. The grey hairs, the tiny wrinkles, the twinkle in his eye, the lilt in his laugh, the crook in his arm where our daughter fits. Those are the real symbols of this journey, the real source of our iron-ness.
Happy Anniversary Babe,
love your iron-hearted wife.