The fact that we were watching it for the fourth time was insignificant. I had only really watched it that one time when we saw it in the movie theater last summer. So when I watched Up, and it came to the part of the montage where we get to see Carl and Ellie grow up and get married, dreaming of all kinds of adventures they ended up never taking, I sobbed.
Not because they never made it to Paradise Falls together. But because of the beautiful picture of marriage.
The love that holds on to a husband (or wife) even when the dreams don't come true. The love that transforms the other person and truly makes them more complete. The sticky-love that chooses to remain faithful no. matter. what. The love that grows deeper along with the wrinkles.
There is an elderly couple who lives at the end of our road. I sometimes pass them in my car as they are walking. They usually wave and smile. Sometimes they appear to be chatting with each other. Other times, their mouths are still. But always they are holding hands.
I can't wait to grow old with my man and still want to hold his hand. And chat. And take walks.