On this date in 1986, I stood facing my intended chosen one to whom I would plight my troth— pledge my whole self, body and soul and yes, my freedom to enter into a second marriage in which I felt wobbly. It wasn’t about loving this lovely man who stood before me, but about my freedom—my troth, which according to ancient wisdom means TRUTH.
I felt a bit like a toddler debating her next step, without holding onto a steadying hand or a walker. Could I, would I do it right this time? (Honestly, if I had been one of Jesus’s disciples he would have kicked me off the campaign trail!)
Of course I would, could, and did plight my troth and have no regrets. Happy Anniversary, beloved troth partner of forty-seven whole years! I love you, dearly—all-in, trothfully.
