Hand in Hand
The last two weeks my family and I have been in Santa Fe. The busyness of our lives comes to a full stop overnight. Starting and finishing conversations. Eating New Mexican chili. Sipping delicious tequila. Lost in art and winding roads sprinkled with pink adobe homes. Saying hello to gallery owners picking up from where we left off. Slow days yet feels already a lifetime ago.
This time the children able to hike further and higher into the mountains. We climbed, stared at butterflies, and walked so deep into the forests the aspen Firs sang their melodies above. My daughter and I scared of heights so we sang mantras and songs from the Jungle Book. Occasionally, she and I would venture onto our own trailhead reminding her that there cannot be courage without fear first. When too terrified she held her father’s hand. In her sweet little voice she said "mama, my palms fit in his big hands and that makes me feel safer." So much tenderness to be had in the slowness.
This time we did something even more special. My husband and I renewed our vows. We had always promised one another that one day we would know where and the only guests, the children. I wanted my day in white. A day to walk down an aisle. All experiences we never had.
Officiant hired. A photojournalist whose pictures of India sealed the deal. Location secured. San Miguel chapel, the oldest church in the country. Made out of adobe, held together by donations. Inside steps that date back to 1609. An altar just as old. Our little daughter walked down the aisle holding a bouquet of native flowers while her dad and big brother awaited her. Then my turn. The officiant read about love from all of our favorites. Victor Frankle. Hemmingway. Pablo Neruda. Rabrindanath Tagore. Hafiz. Rumi.
I wrote for my husband as he wrote for me. Our children's vows written in colored pencils and drawings. Laughter and tears hand in hand. A Christian and a Hindu in an ancient Catholic Church. So much of it unscripted. Our design of our life. Like it has always been from the start.
Love has put me face to face with endless obstacles. Ask me to reveal the parts of myself I work tirelessly to hide. Love has asked me to show up even when I have convinced myself I'm not worthy. Sometimes love hidden in harsh words and silent treatments. Love thrives in forgiveness. Love requires courage. Love always demands more.