Letters to Luthien

Letters to My Future Bride

Worth A Thousand Words

I found a place that compiles the key words from websites into collages like this.


May 22, 2012 Posted by | Uncategorized | Leave a comment

In Anticipation of…Walking With You

Dear Darling,

So the other night I wrote about my long walks in the dark, and my anticipation of one day sharing them with you. Then I got to thinking about all the different walks we’re going to take.

We’ve got lots of them ahead of us…we’re going to go everywhere together.

It’s going to start with one walk in particular. You’re going to be wearing a beautiful white gown. I’ll be in a tuxedo hearing that glorious music heralding your arrival. I might be grinning like an idiot, or crying like a fool, but either way, I wouldn’t assume I’ll be big on composure.

It’s going to be your last walk alone. You’ll finally reach the end, and put your arm in mine….never to part.

We’ll turn and face our family and friends as they announce our new names and life together, and we’ll walk down the aisle as husband and wife. We’ll walk — run, really — from the rice being thrown at us (why do they do that anyway? Doesn’t matter, I still like the idea) and head off into our sunset.

Why, we might even find time to walk together on our honeymoon! But even afterwards, as the road of life we’re on rises up to meet us, we’ll have a lot of walking to do.

We’re going to hike mountain trails on vacations far and near. We’re going to go strolling down neighborhood sidewalks or rural driveways together.

We’ll drive down moonlit country roads and find a stream to walk beside. We’ll hike back into the woods, in and among tall cedar forests at dusk. Maybe we’ll find a secluded lake or pool and go skinny dipping. (I dare you!)

Let’s do the long walk on the beach too. Let’s curl up together and watch the moon come up glimmering over the water.

We’ll go walking on silent snowy nights. We’ll walk arm and arm through the grocery and the mall together. I’ll have my arm around you and pulling you close as we leave the movies, and I’ll hate to let go of you even when it makes our steps awkward and uneven.

We’ll walk through the valley of the shadow of death.

We’ll walk side by side through the days, weeks, months and years to come, on our way to growing old together.

Right now it feels more like a marathon, and I the exhausted runner. The finish line here is invisible. Hope flickers and fades at times, and it’s difficult to see the wounds of others and to know they are not mine to bind up.

But I’ll keep walking. Or running. Or crawling. Over broken glass if I have to. I know you’re there at the finish line, and wherever that is, no prize could be greater.

Love always,

May 22, 2012 Posted by | Anticipation, Our Wedding | Leave a comment