I have not lived long enough to realise the significance of things that take time. So I am writing about something I obviously have no idea about.
My parents have not been home for three hours and it has taken me that long to realise that today is the twenty-fifth year that they have been married. Mum reminded me of it this morning, but I immediately forgot in my determination to get to work on time. I went downstairs and it clicked – I have to wash the dishes, at least.
Which got me thinking. Amongst the disagreements, arguments, silence, and plain automaticity of life, how does the all-binding nature of marriage outlast this?
You could simply say that it doesn’t by looking at divorce rates. It has been of fascination to me in recent times about this familial status amongst some of my friends; I guess it is impossible to ever assume anything behind everyone’s seemingly normal countenance… Then again as much as I’d like to conjecture about this further I cannot, since every time I wish to think something about it I feel utterly out of my depth.
I’m not sure whether I’m normal or not, but the more these contrasting situations conflict in my mind, the more I do feel happy that my parents are still together. I suppose as you learn about how different things could be you become glad for what you have.
I remember the shouting contests, followed by the silence contests, followed by the threat contests, followed by the incidental abrupt sound contests. I remember feeling frightened that the divorce string would be pulled. I remember feeling guilty that I may have triggered it. I remember hiding in my room, locking my door, fearing for my life. But to content myself I have always felt this complacency in knowing everything would subside, and everything would be the same again, soon. I don’t know whether to put it to laziness, to the children, or the intangible bond that we are still a family unit. All I know is that we are.
To look at the bigger picture is a thrill. The trials of finding someone. The game of playing them. The awe in discovering them. The selfishness of wanting more of them. The luxury of calling them your own. The fantasy of propsal, engagement. The magic of the big day. Then, ultimately, the challenge of a life together.
I think the main thing is that you need to live with someone who is unlike you. Not totally dissimilar, but with enough different to remain interesting, and enough similar for you to live and spend a long time with.
I finished washing the dishes about five minutes before their return home. I was a good son!!
