Married Life

People keep asking me if it feels different to be married. Yes and No. No because we still live in the same apartment, the grocery list is more or less the same, I still use my favorite Sharpies to mark the newspapers before he reads them, I buy two half gallons of milk at the same time and he still shakes his head (but we never run out—or low).

But different too because something—some teeny anxiety --has settled down inside of me. Different also because I think about his family now as my own as well—and gratefully they have reciprocated so I have these wonderful in-laws and extended family. There is a little bit more “we” in my vocabulary though knowing my old tendencies I’m careful to not lose the “I” as I know that is the surest way for me to lose the “we” and the happiness I’ve found.

How Are You?

Last night we went to the wedding. We appear as a couple in public. We meet people we knew and people new to us. I talk to Bob seated on my right and meet his wife, Christine. He is 80 and she is 60. In making small talk about families and grown children he says, “Well, my children don’t come around much. Christine and I met while I was still married. I fell in love with her and left my wife. I wanted to be happy.” It was more than 20 years ago. We talk about their life and businesses and travels. They are quite happy. I tell him that John and I are in a similar situation. He asks, “Do people try to make you feel bad?” I say, “yes, sometimes.” and Bob says, “Well, fuck them.”

During the evening John and I talk with other guests.
When people say to John, “How are you?” There is a moment of calculation.
Do they know about the cancer or not?
Are they saying, “How are you—given that you have cancer?”
Or
Is it simply, “How are you?” and now he has to tell them about the cancer.

Going to a Wedding

Next weekend we are going to a wedding. My friend’s son is getting married and we have been invited. It feels special. The invitation came to us as a couple. That is special. We’ll be attending this grown up and very social affair together. That is special. It turns out that we’ll each know some of the other guests; our worlds intersect at this wedding. That is special.

We talk about someday getting married. I imagine a ceremony on the beach. I have seen a dress that would be splendid for a beach wedding. A peachy ivory lace sheath, knee length that just skims the body. When I saw it in the store I thought, “I could get married in that.” More than once I have thought, “Just buy the dress. Buy the dress so you have it, so you can look at it in the closet and know the day will come.”

But I have also thought, “If he dies that dress will kill me and it will be excruciating to have a wedding dress that was never worn.”

Live in today? Hope for the future? Believe him when he says, “We’ll be married for 20 years.”? Or just be grateful that this week we are a normal couple buying a wedding gift and looking forward to going to a wedding?