Love, Honor, Obey
Looking over my old writings there’s often one recurring theme.
If you don’t know me, and you’ve read this blog, you might think that I’m anti-marriage. For the record. That isn’t necessarily true. I’ve just seen how it hasn’t worked well for a lot of people, and sometimes, it makes me feel a little gun-shy… Understandably.
For the record, I am all for marriage. Well. I am all for marriage for other people. I like my bachelorhood. For now.
And lately, I’ve been feeling more… optimistic about romantic possibilities. It turns out there are still some very, very thoughtful people out there. People who actually mean what they say and say what they mean. Imagine that. I was beginning to think that they all just lied, ripped you off or tried to create unnecessary drama. (it's been a long year, readers.)
I believe that a loving relationship that’s 100% dedicated and committed is possible- I have several shining examples in my own family. My parents. My brothers. Sisters.
I’ve also seen a lot of divorce. In my family. With my friends. These days, a pre-empted marriage is as common as getting married used to be- marriages often end earlier than expected, and for good reason.
Surrounded by family at a recent event, the question of my singledom inevitably arose. This time it came from an uncle, my brilliant radical liberal uncle (who is not really my uncle… but he’s been with my aunt for so many years, we think of him as family). We’ve both been working on a series of poems (his now published) and he asked me about my potential for getting married and having children.
I could have been married ten times now, I said. An explanation that leaves me not bereft, but often feeling slightly dirty, like a used towel. I’m not against marriage, I told him. I just haven’t found the right person yet. And I don’t want to end up unhappy and resentful with the wrong person.
With great intensity, he leaned in and told me this: “You only need to know one thing in life. You need to know when you’re getting cheated.”
Damn.
That’s profound.
Because he’s right. And I like to think (like I hope that he was implying), that I’ve made a lot of smart choices- instead of a lot of unhappy mistakes. I know I’ve hurt people. In some ways, I’m still hurting them. But marriage? That’s a big deal, man. Maybe the biggest deal there is.
I watched my parents canoodle this summer, as they frolicked and celebrated their 50 years together. 50 years! Five decades of love, honor and fidelity. It’s been a long haul. And it’s been a lot of work. It’s not something you see very often these days.
When I lived with someone and he wanted to marry, I told him we didn’t need a piece of paper to define our love. To define our place in the world together.
But maybe what I really meant to say was I didn’t want to be cheated. Or to cheat him. Because even then, I knew it wouldn’t work out.
My uncle gave me some food for thought. I still think that I will find the right person. One day. And we’ll have a half dozen little boys and live in a tiny house on a mountain. And maybe we’ll marry. Or maybe not.
My other uncle gave me a slightly different piece of wisdom to think about. Inviting me to visit him in Montana for the Stampede next year (Montana’s biggest annual party), he told me I’d have my pick of handsome cowboys, and then he went on to list a number of rodeo activities I might enjoy. Finally he stopped and looked at me, puzzled by my blank stare. Um. Sorry, Uncle Mel. I didn’t hear anything after “handsome cowboys.”
One day.
If you don’t know me, and you’ve read this blog, you might think that I’m anti-marriage. For the record. That isn’t necessarily true. I’ve just seen how it hasn’t worked well for a lot of people, and sometimes, it makes me feel a little gun-shy… Understandably.
For the record, I am all for marriage. Well. I am all for marriage for other people. I like my bachelorhood. For now.
And lately, I’ve been feeling more… optimistic about romantic possibilities. It turns out there are still some very, very thoughtful people out there. People who actually mean what they say and say what they mean. Imagine that. I was beginning to think that they all just lied, ripped you off or tried to create unnecessary drama. (it's been a long year, readers.)
I believe that a loving relationship that’s 100% dedicated and committed is possible- I have several shining examples in my own family. My parents. My brothers. Sisters.
I’ve also seen a lot of divorce. In my family. With my friends. These days, a pre-empted marriage is as common as getting married used to be- marriages often end earlier than expected, and for good reason.
Surrounded by family at a recent event, the question of my singledom inevitably arose. This time it came from an uncle, my brilliant radical liberal uncle (who is not really my uncle… but he’s been with my aunt for so many years, we think of him as family). We’ve both been working on a series of poems (his now published) and he asked me about my potential for getting married and having children.
I could have been married ten times now, I said. An explanation that leaves me not bereft, but often feeling slightly dirty, like a used towel. I’m not against marriage, I told him. I just haven’t found the right person yet. And I don’t want to end up unhappy and resentful with the wrong person.
With great intensity, he leaned in and told me this: “You only need to know one thing in life. You need to know when you’re getting cheated.”
Damn.
That’s profound.
Because he’s right. And I like to think (like I hope that he was implying), that I’ve made a lot of smart choices- instead of a lot of unhappy mistakes. I know I’ve hurt people. In some ways, I’m still hurting them. But marriage? That’s a big deal, man. Maybe the biggest deal there is.
I watched my parents canoodle this summer, as they frolicked and celebrated their 50 years together. 50 years! Five decades of love, honor and fidelity. It’s been a long haul. And it’s been a lot of work. It’s not something you see very often these days.
When I lived with someone and he wanted to marry, I told him we didn’t need a piece of paper to define our love. To define our place in the world together.
But maybe what I really meant to say was I didn’t want to be cheated. Or to cheat him. Because even then, I knew it wouldn’t work out.
My uncle gave me some food for thought. I still think that I will find the right person. One day. And we’ll have a half dozen little boys and live in a tiny house on a mountain. And maybe we’ll marry. Or maybe not.
My other uncle gave me a slightly different piece of wisdom to think about. Inviting me to visit him in Montana for the Stampede next year (Montana’s biggest annual party), he told me I’d have my pick of handsome cowboys, and then he went on to list a number of rodeo activities I might enjoy. Finally he stopped and looked at me, puzzled by my blank stare. Um. Sorry, Uncle Mel. I didn’t hear anything after “handsome cowboys.”
One day.
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