I walked through an old graveyard years ago and came across a wide tombstone, half of one side carved with information about a woman who died in the 1800’s, in her mid-20s. The other half was blank. I believe that half was waiting for her husband, so I wondered if he moved far away or re-married and was buried next to his second wife or a third wife. Did I marry because I wanted to be buried next to the love of my life? That’s sweet, but we’re talking about the end here, not the beginning or the more important middle. We found each other after all, true soul mates, which is miraculous enough to see it through. Parts of marriage are fairly easy, but most just have to be figured out. It’s “not just a walk in the park” and love isn’t “a many splendored thing”. It’s worth much consideration, getting past the bad parts to continue with the good, tossing aside all things petty to grab onto what’s important, and asking for forgiveness and forgiving. The end’s the end no matter when it comes or where you’re buried. What matters is the middle – our middle was pretty good.