Skip to main content

B is for Marriage

Every day I find myself questioning the logics I have lived in, swam in and even drank from. Today… it is marriage.

One of my friend who can safely be described as a bright light, a… star’s fire so to speak posted a gift she received from the love of her life. She explained to me that she would wear it for the rest of her life and I believe her [iChuckle]. But more than that, I thought to myself “that takes commitment”.

Commitment. The general basis for any relationship and especially for the institution of marriage.

Institution. A place of rules; of close chested logics; of 8-4 attitudes – clock in, do work, clock out. So in essence, an institution is a place for routine, but don’t worry we will continue to fool ourselves into thinking that the more institutions we have, the better a society we’ll have. Classic.

I stood in the line to pay a bill and in typical Tracy Vision, thoughts and processes are remembered. So our Star’s Fire was given a token of love that she will treasure forever. This token is a symbol of love and mutual knowing. He KNOWS her and thus presented her with a gift most acceptable.

Yet every one rushes for a ring. A bejeweled generality that is SUPPOSED to be a symbol of love for a society desperately trying to lock itself into an institution. MADNESS! Yes, that is indeed, quite a clever play on words.

We go through pomp and splendor of a marriage ceremony to PROVE, to reassure, first ourselves, then our partners, then the visiting world that YES… love is genuine; but more than that, that we know our partners and our commitment is strong. Didn’t you know this before you went before altar and authority?

In Battlestar Galactica, Colonel Tigh was about to lose his unborn son, Liam His new lady, was unconscious. His long time wife says to him, “tell her you love her Saul”, he responds with the most beautiful speech I heard in a while.
“This is nonsense.” He says, “She knows it! I don't need to say it. I shouldn't need to say it to anyone. Isn't it enough that I feel it?” He continues, “I feel it! For her. For you. For Liam. Shouldn't need to spout the words; I feel it less with words. Just let me Gods-damn feel it and I'll fill the frakkin' room.”

In that moment, Colonel Tigh was love, was commitment; resting in her was the token of his love [and gratitude]; he knew himself and knew her I’d dare say and that was enough.

The simple token of love, of the knowledge of each other shared between two souls today WAS ENOUGH. As it should be.

I suppose this is where this Theist boy should say “I don’t condone living together or ‘shacking up’” and I suppose this is where this Theist boy should say, “no offense to the actually married, light and life be with you.” but instead I will say this:

One Sunday evening a girl and I stayed wrapped up in green leather chair and that was love; she and I shared space and I held her near me and that was commitment. And I have not been whole since. I do not lie. The silver ring I bought, felt good on the finger, made me feel adult but please…forgive me, if I am to believe that a societal imposition is the signpost of True Love.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

B in Future Traditions

THE COPY: I was sitting down listening to Norah Jones’ “Come Away with Me” and I began to think about future traditions. I thought… I want to sway with someone. Sway with my lover. To this music. More than that, I want that when we had an argument (and we’d have those because she’d be stubborn and I’d be pig headed (iChuckle)) we would never go to bed angry. We’d pop open a lover’s CD like this one and just sway. We may be as mad as hell but we would sway because we would never want to go to bed angry. And our children would know this. And they would never allow their partners to go to bed angry either because… well, because they would know better. They would sway. They would know it was better to sway. That’s the kind of man I want to be. Moreover, that’s the kind of tradition I’d like to pass on. Future Traditions. What's Yours?

B is for The Hand of Gordon (Act 5)

5. The driver egged him on. This was the third bad drive that Gordon received at the hand of the demon with the driver’s permit. But… neither the speed limit nor his attitude changed. The demon's finger went up again. Gordon smiled, again. He shook his head. The civility of his action denied a certain truth. Though Gordon considered himself long suffering, his hand held fast to a young blade should the speedster lose control of his car… and his mind. Yes, Gordon just smiled.

B is for Our Lady of Perpetual Help

Mom - pulling the provolone from the sandwich: "STRING THEORY!" Me looking at her and laughing. Mom: What you think only you know about Science? ... Happy Every Day, mothers. .......... Let's hear it for you The Miracle Worker Soul Shaper Wisdom's daughter who grew into a mother. This Lady of Perpetual Help. Ma, help! The project's due. Help! I can't find my shoe. Like some kind of psychic,she knows where all things, to whom it belongs And the condition in which it came... The side kick's calm refrain: "thanks... mom." Problem solved. Peace reigns. She from the line of Eve May not have had the chance to leave and cleave And while some think her weaker WE know better. A Mother. Made stronger by her God whether or not Adam stood beside her. A perpetual  help in times of chaos Walks another mile so that you could take the bus. Silencing storms is the norm So we think being superhuman IS... THE NORM! But even heroes get ...