The road not taken

The Road Not Taken, by Robert Frost.

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same.

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

There have been many times over the last several years where both my husband and I have wondered what life would be like if we had chosen a different path. Marriage is hard. Raising children is hard. And yet, no matter how challenging this road has been, I wouldn't have it any other way.

So perhaps it's fitting that we celebrated our anniversary by taking a hike down another "road not travelled." Because on our hike, it was clear to both of us that it is both the good and the bad -- the death and the decay, the new growth and life -- that make the journey beautiful.