Til death do us part.

This past weekend, Jeff and I made the trip home to Visalia. We were there for a couple of big things. My grandpa, Poopa, passed away about a week ago, and his funeral was on Thursday morning, and yesterday, Jeff’s youngest sister Katie got married.

The end of one thing, and the beginning of another.

The service for Poopa was quite perfect. The church that they used to take me to as a little girl was full. There were stories from his closest friends about his silly antics and his love for his family, traveling, and his hometown, Visalia. Many memories have been running through my mind since he passed away. Though he was 90 years old and I knew this was coming, the change and loss of someone special isn’t easy... harder than I thought in fact. I can still hear Poopa’s voice saying “Oh! sweet girl!” and giving me a kiss on the cheek. I can see him sitting in his mustard colored recliner chair as Piper and I practiced our putting with his golf club in the family room. Trips to San Francisco with he and Janey in the Cadillac; every Christmas morning for as long as I can remember; his red Stanford sweats, thumb tricks, and never-changing trivia questions. He was funny and stubborn and sensitive, and I will miss him dearly.

Thankfully, our trip ended on a high note. Katie and Jon’s wedding was beautiful. I came over to the Schuil house on Thursday afternoon to Crystal and Katie making chocolate covered spoons for the coffee at the reception. It reminded me of so many times at their house over the years... the girls in the kitchen in their running clothes, baking and laughing and licking their chocolate or cookie dough-covered fingers. It made me happy to see them so calm and carefree during a time that is usually pretty stressful for a bride.

Everything came together perfectly, I thought. Katie was relaxed and was glowing on her wedding day. Like me, she met the love of her life in high school. Their ceremony was simple and personal. Our good friend Jared played guitar and sang “Divine Romance” by Phil Wickham, the same song he sang at our wedding almost five years ago. As Jeff and I caught each others eyes as Jared sang, I felt peace knowing that even though things have changed over the years, we still belong to each other and to God.

Today, as we drove back to Costa Mesa, I was thinking about marriage, about the commitment that Jeff and I made to each other. I thought about Poopa and Janey and their 65 years together, and about our parents’ marriages. Oftentimes I forget how sacred marriage is. If I am being completely honest, it can be very easy to just go through it. I don’t believe what causes marriages to fall apart is some big disagreement or falling out, but rather getting too comfortable, taking the other person for granted, pretending that everything is fine when sometimes its not, and just not caring anymore. I don’t think marriage is hard because we don’t get along with each other, but because its not new and exciting every single moment of every single day. It involves taking out the trash, sharing the bathroom, and trying to remember whose turn it is to get the oil changed in the car.

All that said, I wouldn’t have it any other way. I spent quite a bit of time with my grandparents, and I know their marriage was not always easy, but they held true to their promises for 65 years. They cared for each other and didn’t give up when times were difficult.

I have heard it said that love is a choice, and I couldn’t agree more. There are times where it is so easy to love, and times where you really have to choose it. I think there is something so honoring and beautiful about this. If it were always easy, I don’t think it would be true love.