Dating is like a taxi in New York; constantly stuck in the traffic of other taxis, all desperately looking for somebody to flag them down. Eventually someone will come along, and sometimes he’s a complete looney and sometimes he’s okay, but in the end, you’ll go around the block a couple times, he’ll get off and you’re stuck in traffic again, looking, always looking, never getting anywhere. It gets tiring.

~

Being married, on the other hand, is like driving a slow train on a long, winding route across country. You have a lot to see and experience and a lot of time in which to do it. The routines you begin together, like the constant vibrations of wheels on tracks, wake you up, keep you paced and lull you to sleep at night. And yet, you wake up and you’re never where you were the night before in your relationship. You’re always meeting new people, learning new things, discovering new locations.

But no one goes on a long trip like marriage expecting it to be easy. The only constant is that you are married, that you chose to stay on a track and that your goal is to see it through to where ever it takes you. Like any cross-country route, you will probably fall into the monotony of a great plains life; day after day of the same thing out the window, ka’chk-ka’chk, ka’chk-ka’chk…and boredom sets in. It always does. But just when you think you’ve had enough, challenges and mountains of some kind will come along and you’re holding his hand again, nose pressed to the window to see what’s next.

But with two people, 100 years and the complex machinery that is the human heart, there is always the chance that something will go wrong. Someone else will stand on your tracks. Poor financial decisions could flood the path. Ice may creep over until continuing seems impossible. But seasoned engineers know that cows move, floods recess and ice melts. It just takes time and effort from both partners to figure out the best way to get the engine moving again.

For a train needs two people to run it at all time: the driver and the fireman, each with their respective duties to steer and keep the fire going. As husband and wife, one makes decisions while the other supports him or her in them. You take turns being each, and both activities are integral to the other. So if one person fails to do his or her duty, the relationship is easily brought to a screeching halt or sent careening madly out of control. But until the train has completely derailed, there is still the comfort of the tracks; hope is not lost as long as you both agree to remain on them. But if it is decided that this journey is taking you in circles or into places you do not wish to go, the sad fact is that you both can get off at the next stop and flag a taxi back to New York. The journey is over and your initial dreams and goals are abandoned; two sets of luggage once filled with promise, now just empty shells abandoned on the platform (or perhaps dragged along, now filled with pain, anger, resentment, grief….)

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We’ve been married 2 months December 2nd. The honeymoon phase has faded quietly into the background like a beautiful resort town from a train window. We’re still chugging along, although it’s been less than perfect the past few weeks, but I imagine that this is how most marital journeys begin. New engines have bugs and creaks and flaws that get smoothed over as the years go by. I plan on staying on board until the very last stop, whatever it may be, and I’m glad I’ve found someone who is equally ready to go with me. We may not know where we’re headed, but he’s got the shovel and I have a whistle and we’ll figure it out as we go. And when the going gets tough, we’ll always remember somewhere there a million taxis just wishing they were going somewhere at all….