On October 1, 2016, my dear friends Tom and Caitlin vowed themselves to each other in the Sacrament of Holy Matrimony before a company of witnesses at St. Patrick’s Church in Brooklyn, NY. It was a very special day for me for reasons so numerous I cannot recount them all in this short article, so I will limit myself to what I deem most important for page two readers.

A year before the wedding, Tom and Caitlin invited me and my boys to join them in praying before the relics of St. Therese and her newly canonized parents, Louis and Zelie Martin, at a special veneration ceremony at Our Lady of Mount Carmel Church in Orange, NJ. Caitlin admitted that she was hoping, through the intercession of this holy trio, to get a marriage proposal out of Tom. I understood completely as my courtship with my husband, Frank, was very bumpy and filled with hesitations, mostly on his part, and many tears were shed before we stood before Msgr. Lorenzo Albacete and a church full of witnesses on July 19, 2003, and promised to be faithful to each other “for better or worse, in sickness and in health, until death.”

When I heard those words again through the vows of Caitlin and Tom, I was moved with joy and gratitude in the deepest part of my soul. Frank passed away eleven and a half years after we spoke those words to each other. At that time, I would never have imagined I would see myself on the other side of those vows at the age of 51, with two young children. And I never even reflected on the fact that I had fulfilled my promise to Frank and to Christ and His Body until almost two years after he had passed! Yes! I kept my promise and so did he—but more than that, so did Jesus!

Our marriage was not a fairy tale. The first year was shocking, such were our differences. For the first time in my life I had surround sound in my bedroom! I felt like I was actually present in Yankee stadium when Derek Jeter hit a home run, and I was not the best fan when the cheers from the crowd interrupted my spiritual reading. Frank loved computers and was always buying the latest, greatest innovations while my prized computer, which I had taken such good care of for seven years, was put on the curb as garbage. Frank liked to relax at home; I liked going out and socializing. He made a rule: One activity per weekend. If I wanted to do more, I would have to go without him. Frank respected my freedom, and he made no apologies regarding his own.

When I was pregnant, we could not agree on names for our children. When our children were born, we could not agree on what types of toys they should have, or how many, or how much the toys should cost!

Some of our differences we laughed about. Frank was not an alarmist. I was. When I got upset or worried, he would say, “Henny Penny, the sky is falling!” or “Get ahold of yourself, Brody!” But there were moments when we couldn’t joke because our differences were too much for us to handle. That’s when we enlisted discreet help from friends, which was NOT something Frank was used to. He would say, “I don’t like other people handling my business.” Nonetheless, this help proved indispensable.

When Frank became sick, our family life was dominated by medical treatment, trips to various health care facilities, phone calls, consultations, long hours in the emergency room, operations, etc.

As Frank became weaker and weaker, an amazing thing happened—his love for me became the center of my life. I no longer worried about our differences; I had very little interest in trying to change him; I just wanted to be with him. When we were driving home from the hospital after his heart operation, he asked me to pull over to the side of the road near a deli. He wanted to play Lotto! I was afraid, watching him get out of the car and walk, but I was amazed by his desire to play his numbers. Our respect for each other deepened. Praying together became our way of being intimate, and it was the greatest intimacy I have ever shared with another person. The connection was natural, yet mysterious. I hung on every word that came out of his mouth. I lived a submissiveness that was eager and joyful.

The day that Frank went to his eternal reward, a friend from Italy, Letizia, came to my house. “You have to come to Italy,” she said. It was my first moment of realization that I didn’t have to check with my husband. The change in our relationship was immediate, yet Frank’s presence continued to dominate my life.

But it was not until Tom and Caitlin stood at the altar on October 1, 2016 that I was finally able to say, “Thank you, Jesus, for allowing me to keep my promise to my husband. Now that part of my life is fulfilled, and now I want to be a witness to the greatness of having kept that promise.” And I want to make a new promise in the presence of witnesses:

“I promise to be faithful to the Love that opened my eyes and heart to the greatness of following, and I promise to be submissive to that Love.”