Pilgrims at Paine's Creek

Kathryn Swegart looks at how her perception of marriage has changed after more than four decades of living the sacrament.

Observe the young couple walking along a beach on Cape Cod. Occasionally, the woman will pick up a shell or point out a periwinkle etching tracks in the mud flats. The man is quiet, ruminating on a profound decision in his life. Does he know that she knows the secret? The secret is hidden under his green baseball cap. 

Onward they walk until they come to a tidal stream that flows out to the Atlantic Ocean. It is called Paine’s Creek and is a favorite spot of those fishing for striped bass. The couple stands silent, mesmerized by the endless flow of salt water that meets the shore. 

It is now or never. 

The young man takes off his green cap and takes out a small jewelry box. Inside is a diamond ring. 

Now my life really begins, the woman thinks. Now the fun begins. And I get to play tennis every day! 

By now you have probably guessed that I was that young woman. You probably also have guessed that I was happy about the prospect of marriage, but clueless about the depth and breadth of the endeavor. Never did I imagine that one day soon I’d cradle a newborn. My attire would be a t-shirt adorned with spit up and a cloth diaper slung over my shoulder. Tennis togs were relegated to the attic. 

The meaning of the gift of self-giving

Recently, my husband and I celebrated 43 years of marriage by visiting Cape Cod. We stood on the banks of Paine’s Creek and watched the river meander towards the wide Atlantic, unchanging in its journey.  

Many years ago, I did not know how much I would have to change. I did not know the meaning of that gift of self-giving offered every day in many ways.  

Children graced our lives. In labor, my daughter arrived “sunny side up.” I had never experienced such pain — all forgotten when I first held her and gazed into those trusting blue eyes. We bought a little Cape Cod house and soon prepared for the birth of our son, so strong and ready to charge into life. Five years passed and with it came three miscarriages. My father died suddenly on the same day as one of those miscarriages. 

My heart had an emptiness, yearning for another child, yet believing that would never happen. January of 1989 brought another miscarriage. Two months later, I was pregnant again. A dark cloud settled over me, believing that I would endure another loss. To my surprise, months passed, and the baby continued to develop in my womb. On December 1, I held a healthy newborn son in my arms. 

Marriage is more than a romantic adventure

Dr. Jeff Mirus, co-founder of Christendom College, reflected on the meaning of marriage in an article for CatholicCulture.org. In his perception, young couples look upon marriage as a romantic adventure filled with “a whirlwind of joy.” He wrote:

A great many of those funny old couples who — after thirty, forty, fifty or sixty years — look to you like you’ve worn out just about everything that is good about marriage, actually know a depth of love that you aren’t yet capable of understanding.  

Mirus did not intend to criticize young couples. Rather, he affirmed the sacrament of marriage in which “love grows deeper and more powerful day by day.” 

 I stood at the banks of Paine’s Creek, feeling like this was a sacred spot. Through all those decades of married life, I seldom thought about this tidal stream. Still, it flowed out to the great Atlantic, steady and true. Likewise, many days I never thought about God. I look back and realize that His love poured out on me every day, steady and true. 

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Copyright 2024 Kathryn Swegart
Images: (top, bottom) Canva; (center) copyright 2024 Kathryn Swegart, all rights reserved.