The New Year

Harry texted me to say he had a resolution for the new year - to marry me.

It was one of those days when I arrive at work already late; never even took my mobile out of the bag I dropped on the floor beside my desk 8:03 am until I was ready to leave (to go to my second job) at 4 pm. Then, I briefly looked at my vm (There were the usual 16 from 800 numbers) and three texts, two from Harry and one billing notice from my car insurance. I was running late, so I opened none of these (saving Harry for a quiet moment) but drove to job #2, where there were 18 things I had to do YESTERDAY; yadda yadda yadda as they used to say on Seinfeld; then (much) later I got home, and Harry and I kissed, chatted and went to bed in the brisk, efficient It's-a-school-night-after-all way we've evolved...

Anyway, I didn't even see his text until the next day.

Harry and I have talked about getting/being married; it was only date three or four when I remember him asking me, with his head on the pillow of the bed in which I had lately despaired of marriage AS AN INSTITUTION, not that long ago,

"So, would you ever get married again?"

I wasn't prepared for the question. I said (and it still strikes me as true as anything else I might have come up with, then or since)

"Yes, but I just NEVER want to be divorced again."

We bought wedding rings last summer. They are on Harry's dresser and I sneak looks at them occasionally, although I've NEVER put mine on my finger, (except that one time we were buying them, to make sure it fit) because it would be very bad luck.

I do want to be married to Harry.

A quote (or probably a paraphrasing) from a book I read recently, more than once:

(The Post-Birthday World, by Lionel Shriver)

"...he wasn't all that interested in getting married, but he was interested in being married"

(italics mine)

-captures my feeling precisely.

I have fantasies of elegant alfresco parties; long tables set outdoors (in southern France) with white tablecloths blowing in the wind and food and wine and dancing . . . there would of course be my daughters, both of whom tend to wheeze in nature; and Harry's kids, who when eating outdoors expect barbecued whatever and soda or at least kool-aid for drink. . .

There would be all our beloved friends & and my adopted "family" from Thanksgiving and Harry's relatives (who may or may not care that Harry is in love but to do them justice, he's been in love before) and the few precious common friends we have made (somewhat haphazardly) we've been so focused on each other and our children.

But hey, this is my fantasy, okay?

So we all congregate in the garden of a home Harry and I have yet to find and we all drink wine, eat elegant food and maybe dance in the garden. Harry and I have a chance to smile at our fate, and to declare that whatever happens we are TOGETHER.

That's all I want.

Posted by Sally.