According to Scott M. Stanley, PhD from the University of Denver, 40% to 50% of marriages end in divorce. Many may call me naive, a few may even call me crazy, but I wholeheartedly believe that there is one man specifically put on this earth to be my one true love; my husband.
As the breeze off the lake compromises with the sticky Kansas humidity, my co-workers and I enjoy our favorite part of the day: break. I work at Lakeview Village, which is a retirement facility where I serve dinner. Between the always entertaining residents and the eccentric staff, there’s always something to talk about.
Divorce, of all things, came up one afternoon. Mike is a junior in high school is one of the sweetest guys I’ve ever met. Although it was never directly said, it was understood who worked for gas, text messages and trendy clothing and who worked because they had to. Mike had to work. He worked to support his family. Even with bigger things on his mind, he always had a happy-go-lucky smile on his face regardless of what he went home to at the end of the day.
Mike nonchalantly told me that his parents were divorced. He said it with such an essence of indifference that it sent a chill down my spine. Divorce is as foreign to me as authentic Chinese food. My parents have been married happily for 18 years. I’ve never seen them fight about anything other than paint chips and ceiling fans.
“You know what? I don’t even think marriage works anymore,” Mike said softly. My jaw dropped, I quickly set down my fork mid-bite, and tried speedily to form the words to defend this attack. Usually quick on my feet, I stumbled to find the words. An outspoken and sometimes overly confident girl, I always had something to say but not this time. Doubt suddenly consumed me. I sat silently, finishing up my plate before solemnly heading back into the kitchen. Wondering if I was as naive enough to believe I’ll get it right the first time.
As I walked back into the dining room, I saw my favorite couple, Harold and Evelyn. They sipped the lasts of their coffee, put their napkins on their plates and pushed their chairs out as they head home, full and happy. Harold waited patiently at the door waiting for Evelyn “to get a move on” when he saw her having trouble getting around a stubborn chair. He quickly came and assisted her. Harold gently took her hand as he led Evelyn home, safe and sound. I paused, with tears welling up in my eyes.
It was in the silence of that simple action of love, that no statistic or doubt could ever from that day on revisit me. I saw love, in its purest form, that special afternoon.
I believe passionately in finding my husband. I believe marriage works and I believe that everlasting love is alive and well.
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