It's Complicated

The memory of a Ferris wheel on a warm August night still dances in my mind. It was my first summer back in Minnesota, and the end of summer was always marked by the start of the state fair. With a group of old college friends, we waited in line, anticipation and excitement filled the air. The Ferris wheel's lights cast a magical glow as the ride ended for those ahead of us. Pausing occasionally leaving those at the top suspended against a sky full of stars, the riders at the bottom exited leaving the air echoing with laughter. Finally, it was our turn. I took her hand, and we slid into our seat as the attendant secured the belt across our laps.

We laughed as the first jerk of the machine lifted us skyward, our spirits soaring with the magic of summer’s eve. We pointed at the the midway of the fairgrounds below, the lights twinkling like a sea of fireflies. We made plans to stop for a bucket of chocolate chip cookies as we circled back down and saw others already waiting in line.

The wheel eventually halted, and there we were, suspended at the top, staring out at the world below.

We exchanged smiles and a nervous glance. Gathering my courage, I looked at her and said, “I love you,” my voice filled with hope. She smiled, leaned in, and kissed me softly. As she pulled back, she whispered, “I love you too,” and my heart soared.

As the wheel jerked back to life and started our descent, we exited and walked quickly together to get our cookies, knowing our fingers would soon be sticky with melted chocolate. That magical moment at the top of the world changed everything, simply because she was there. Her innocence made my complicated world feel simpler, her only worry being where to find the Land-O-Lakes milk stand for unlimited cups of milk for fifty cents.

For the rest of the night we made our way through the fairgrounds hand in hand. I felt as though an angel had been given permission to leave heaven and walk by my side. We left that night not knowing what our future would hold but tonight we walked among the stars. The night came to an end and I dropped her off back at her parent’s home. As we sat together in her driveway, the right words were more difficult to come by, but eventually I had to say goodbye. I looked at her and said, “You are so beautiful.” She blushed and gave me a longer hug than she had ever had before. As I drove away I thanked God for blessing me with the night I had with her.

Now, thirty years have passed since that night. Her innocence still captivates me as we walk our two dogs and she tells me about her adventures with Tyler, the little boy she watches on Wednesday afternoons. She has no hidden agendas; she sees life in the simplest, purest way, making my complicated world feel way less complicated.

It has taken almost the entire thirty years for me to understand that marriage is about being truly known and still being deeply loved. There have been many times I've dragged her into the chaos of my complicated world. She always agrees to sit beside me, lets the attendant belt us in, and takes my hand with the same unwavering smile from thirty years ago. I know there have been moments when she’d prefer to sit the ride out, but even knowing me completely, she continues to love me and climbs on the ride.

It's her innocent patience that I have grown to cherish. No one else knows me like she does. I found someone who won’t walk away but instead joins me on this wild ride called life. There is no one else like that someone who, on a warm August night, whispered, “I love you too.” Throughout our marriage, life has not been perfect and I’ve made a lot of mistakes. But there is one thing that I know I got right. She has helped me realize that it’s not that complicated, I just need to remember that it’s simply love.