2 posts tagged “marriage”

Periodically, I like to be certain my husband really understands how special I am.  Well, unique anyway.  Well, maybe just different.  Anyway, I recently shocked him with yet another revelation of my abilities.  Do not let your mind head toward the gutter at this point.  That is NOT where this is going.  One my unheralded abilities is that I am able to cry at weddings.  Any wedding. Any time.  I am the queen of the cry.  He didn’t believe me.

A few weeks ago I had the golden opportunity to show him the champion I am.  His coworker was married and both the bride and groom are complete strangers to me.  The wedding was truly the most beautiful I have ever seen.  An exquisite historical location, perfect weather, the perfect bride and groom, and no expense spared.  Everything was absolutely exquisitely understated.  It was quite honestly, perfect.

I was drawn into the absolute uniqueness of this wedding as the middle-aged first-time bride seemed to float toward her groom.  There were many references to this love coming as such a gift to them at this stage of life.  No one could escape the emotional pull as the bride was escorted down the aisle by her elderly father.  I waited for the tingles to begin and hoped my waterproof mascara would hold up.

Nothing.

The vows were powerful and combined traditional sentiment with cultural heritage.   The pastor slowly and thoroughly explained the power of wedding vows and how seriously the Lord regards them.  The orange sun got lower and lower in front of us.  Unlike the other guests, I had no sunglasses and didn’t want to seem crass by shielding my eyes.  Stoically, I squinted and waited.

But my eyes would not cooperate.

I went introspective and thought about my wedding and what a genuinely happy day it was.  And how, given the opportunity, I would marry Checkered a million times over.  As though he could read my mind, we smiled at each other.

Zip.

I thought about dropping our kids off with their grandparents.  Kenseth had been struggling with asthma all day and was understandably nervous about being away from us at bedtime.

I almost left to go get him, but was still tearless.

I looked around at the variety of fashion and thought about how a hundred years ago, we would color-coordinate for these kinds of events and then photograph ourselves for posterity.  I thought about how we now wear whichever clothing buttons, snaps, and zips with the least battle.

Bone-dry.

I thought about how I had on the wrong bra for my dress and no matter how warm it got later, I would not be able to take my jacket off.

Nada.

I thought about how the waistband of my pantyhose had become mysteriously de-elasticized since the start of the evening.  The former control top became low-rise pantyhose and threatened to, with a sudden move, become knee highs.  Surely that would start the emotion, but my eyes were…

Not even shimmering.

The beautiful and moving ceremony was over.  Checkered looked at my eyes and smirked.  What was wrong?! Maybe I was seriously dehydrated! 

But the truth was screaming and I recognized it:  the reign of the wedding-cry queen was over. 

We started a new series in Sunday school today about the Time-Starved Marriage.  Our homework this week is to record what we each do during the day and share that list with our spouse.  I thought Checkered would enjoy some culture in his life, so my list of morning activities can be sung to the tune of "Happy Birthday."

Her intentions were good,

She would bake something;  she would;

A casserole was the thing,

But she first needed to sing.

She worked through her song,

Didn’t like how it sounded all wrong;

She remembered a good cake,

And decided that’s what she’d bake.

The recipe she couldn’t locate,

Then the dog needed to go in her crate;

A look at the internet,

Then the recipe would be all set.

She started the batter,

Then called a friend to see what was the matter;

She checked her email,

Something she ALWAYS did without fail.

The batter finally was set,

Then some missing info she remembered to get;

She looked through some piles,

But couldn’t find her work files.

Somewhere along the way,

She thought about soccer the next day;

The boys had no socks,

And then found Kahne’s secret collection of rocks.

They were so pretty and green,

Would throwing them away be that mean?

Then she found a pile of dirty pants,

But she really needed to try a new dance.

The cake finally began to cook,

Then she saw her new book;

It would take just a moment now,

To read about the lady with a cow.

But the tub looked so warm,

It was something she missed when she lived in a dorm;

She wanted to laze like a bum,

Then she saw the soap scum.

She needed something to scrape,

But then she saw the torn drape;

She started to take it down,

And found the kids’ missing toy crown.

To the play room she did go,

The broken toys she needed to throw;

But while she was there,

She thought of an exercise she could go with the chair.

She strengthened her arms,

Her husband would not be able to resist her toned charms;

She really needed to trim her boys’ bangs,

But then started to fret about all her new pains.

She looked in a medical book,

All she intended was a quick look;

who knew the diseases were so many,

Then thoughts of essays showed up like a bad penny.

There was so much to grade,

But the bed hadn’t been made;

Come to think it, lately

There was one student who troubled her greatly.

Better take time to pray,

But first make time to weigh;

Her jeans are too tight,

She’d read more about diets tonight.

Meanwhile the smoke alarm sounded,

And her head really, really pounded;

Should she see what was on fire,

Or just accept she was about to expire?

The cake has a sad story,

The charred remains were really gory;

Living with ADD can be exciting,

But nothing gets done except for this writing.