Fifty years ago today I married. As the marriage ended in divorce after almost 20 years, today can hardly be called a golden wedding anniversary. Should another colour be chosen for such an anniversary? Purple for Lent, or black, for the dead?
Although this day is haunting my thoughts and reviving some memories. The courtship. Difficulties with parents. The engagement. The wedding. And the wedding night. And the nights after that. The good parts. the bad parts. The struggles to overcome problems. The tragic pregnancies. The birth of three children and the joys they brought. Our careers. and then when, to me, it seemed that we were not doing too badly, the infidelity and the end of the marriage. And then the chasm of unhappiness and despair, and the gradual process of recovery, and the adapting to all the changes in my life.
By now this past life is over, and mostly ceases to haunt me, although anniversaries trigger thought and feelings. I wish my first husband well. Most is forgiven. I hope I accept my own failings and my own responsibility. Many of the negative feelings have been washed away by time, effort, other problems and sorrows, joys and pleasures, good friends, good books and wonderful music, and by singing. I wish I were a better person, but believe that although I am by no means perfect, there is hope. While there is life. It is a bit of a bad patch at present. The loins are girded, the teeth gritted, onward Christian soldiers, we shall overcome. And so on and so forth. But some days should be marked, and given thought. We celebrate time and anniversaries, and achievements. And reflect on failures, resolving to do better.
Although this day is haunting my thoughts and reviving some memories. The courtship. Difficulties with parents. The engagement. The wedding. And the wedding night. And the nights after that. The good parts. the bad parts. The struggles to overcome problems. The tragic pregnancies. The birth of three children and the joys they brought. Our careers. and then when, to me, it seemed that we were not doing too badly, the infidelity and the end of the marriage. And then the chasm of unhappiness and despair, and the gradual process of recovery, and the adapting to all the changes in my life.
By now this past life is over, and mostly ceases to haunt me, although anniversaries trigger thought and feelings. I wish my first husband well. Most is forgiven. I hope I accept my own failings and my own responsibility. Many of the negative feelings have been washed away by time, effort, other problems and sorrows, joys and pleasures, good friends, good books and wonderful music, and by singing. I wish I were a better person, but believe that although I am by no means perfect, there is hope. While there is life. It is a bit of a bad patch at present. The loins are girded, the teeth gritted, onward Christian soldiers, we shall overcome. And so on and so forth. But some days should be marked, and given thought. We celebrate time and anniversaries, and achievements. And reflect on failures, resolving to do better.
3 comments:
I do enjoy reading your sombre, considered blog posts. So often blogs are such a sanitised view of quotidian life - which we all know is just that: quotidian! More power to you, and hugs from a stranger.
It's definitely an anniversary, After all, 20 years is a big part of your life and three lovely children (and your lovely grandchildren) came from that marriage, so it should be celebrated. Happy 50th anniversary, whatever the colour.
As Isabelle says, it is a celebration. Not one you would have chosen, obviously, but two later generations came from the union, who give you much joy.
Power from me too and a hug.
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