Sunday, 26 April 2009
For better or worse...
For better or worse. In sickness and in health. Till death us do part.
Don't think I actually said those words y'know. I mean I said something along those lines for sure. Something about forever an all. I have my vows kicking around the house somewhere - the ones we said the day I married my husband for the second time. Yes - I loved him so much, I married him twice.
The first time was shrouded in secrecy - only a handful of people knew, none of our families. The day itself involved a couple of friends, a registry office on the Kings Rd (Polanski and Sharon Tate, Judy Garland and Marco Pierre White all got hitched there) and a token bunch of flowers. I wore a white trouser suit and husband (to be) wore an unironed shirt and a permanent cigarette. We had to use my Grandmother's Grandmother's wedding ring and I got the giggles at the vow part - it felt like we were being especially naughty, not making life long legal promises. We called it the step between 'living together' and 'getting hitched'. A cool summer's day - July 31st 2002. We'd had our first date exactly a year to the day, before. Husband, an Australian with a visa recently expired, could then stay in the country - and we could work it out from there...
Deep down I already knew. He was 'the one.' Husband clearly wasn't so sure, or so ready - as it took him another year and two months to finally propose.
That happened at 2am one Fri night/Sat morning when he stumbled in from work. We lay in bed talking about relationships, (a mate of mine had just been horribly dumped) my fingers invisibly on his back - encouraging him in a not so round about way, to take that leap. His eyes looked ceiling ward and then he did it. He asked those life changing words.
I was shocked. I didn't believe he meant it. I had proposed about... 31 times (mainly drunk) - he only proposed the once. I asked him if was serious, then screamed 'yes!' and then made him wear Shrek ears I'd just brought him back from a work trip to Florida. (It made the enormity of what we had just done feel somehow more frivolous). No shaggathon for us. No, he asked if he could watch Sky sports. The romance of it all. It was 2am but I still called my Mum - so he couldn't take it back. This sums up our diverging paths. Something happens, he goes one way, I another.
A date was set - 24th October 2004. Halloween being my favourite holiday - I indulged myself and gave one helluva a party. For the service: (to get married again we had to go through the whole 'we are not married in the eyes of 'god' malarkey and attend hideous wedding classes which Husband always turned up to having sunk a bottle of wine first) a candlelit church my Mother and Grandmother had all married in (my Mother, twice). The reception in an old yacht club overlooking the sea - filled with pumpkin lanterns carved with hearts, toffee apples with our baby photos on, mulled wine, a pumpkin and ghost covered chocolate cake, and fortune teller (who had a panic attack and left early - perhaps a sign?) for 90 friends and family. It was the best day of my life.
Here we are 4 years on. 7 years legally married. 8 together.
Husband is depressed which means I have to walk on eggshells and be supportive when I want to put a rocket up his ass and explode him into a million little pieces. He has signed up for counselling (wasn't that meant to be me?) and even ventured to my acupuncturist. He hates his job and is beyond burnt out. (Tell me something I didn't know). His problem is that he has no time to make these crucial life changes. I understand - that he feels he never has time for himself. (Welcome to my world buddy). But instead of saying this - I have to take deep breaths and say supportive things - being careful to listen but NOT advise. Apparently that is imperative - the whole listening but not actually reacting thing. It is what men want. Not solutions, not help, no - they just want to share.
After a hard week and Sproglet being 'challenging' you guessed it - I am so in the mood for this sharing! Oh please, bring on the sharing! I just can't get enough of your woe!
Sorry. In sickness and in health. Remember. REMEMBER.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment