Thursday, February 25, 2010

Weddings (and other to-do lists)

About five years ago J asked me to marry him. It was incredibly romantic and unexpected.

I had no desire to be married. J and I have both been married before (to other people that is).

But being asked was flattering and it felt like a commitment in itself, an affirmation of the depth of his feelings for me.

Still, I was reluctant to turn it into my project and so I left it to him to move things forward.


The years that followed included four house moves and a baby; things that demonstrated a significant level of commitment in themselves. Still, so many of them were organised by me (yes, even the baby!)

And all of them were a struggle that involved not only the logistics of all these massive operations but a great deal of the minutiae and hard physical labour as well (especially the baby).

It's not that I don't understand why it had to be that way. Moving house is apparently one of the most stressful things a person can do. I'm quite good at it now and it's probably not so bad for me. But even so, the enormous amount of things that need seeing to is overwhelming at the best of times. And frankly, it ain't never gonna be the best of times is it?

So I understand that the concept, let alone the execution, completely freaks him out and exhausts him and leaves him shaken like the victim of a near-miss shark attack or something.

There's fighting and pushing and pulling and things said which can't be taken back and many backward steps. I feel like a mule driver really. And a mule too with every god damned possession we own strapped to my back (well, not literally, I do get carried away.)

But at any rate, it's hard, hard, hard. And I do it because I have to or because it's something I really want, though mainly because it's something we've gotten ourselves into and there's no way but forward.

So this is kind of why I'm leaving the wedding for him to do, if he wants it.

Now that may appear to be a cynical move on my part. Saying yes to the very-public-down-on-bended-knee bit really means no if it all hinges on waiting for him to organise it. I might as well wait for the rapture while I'm at it. It could be some time.

I don't have to start thinking about the dress or a venue just yet - we could probably have it for next-to-nothing in our old-aged nursing home. We could be wheeled up the aisle by our son; also retired by now, plenty of time to read newspapers to his aged parents. I wonder if he'll be able to do the cryptic crossword? I can't seem to crack that.

Hang on, where was I? Oh yes, waiting.

Perhaps our wedding will be like the second book-end. The proposal took place near the start of our relationship, just before the depression really took hold.

Maybe a wedding will happen when the depression lifts. And boy will it mean something then. It will mean we survived. Now that will be something worth celebrating.

Flo

1 comment:

  1. Sleepless in New YorkFebruary 25, 2010 at 7:50 PM

    My man totally falls apart over moving. We too have moved four times in recent years, and each time he has disappeared into depression, leaving me to cope with everything. There's the before-the-move depression, when he's anxious about the impending change; the during-the-move depression, when he freaks out utterly; and the after-the-move depression, when he's convinced we've made a hideous mistake by moving and that nothing will ever be okay again. The last one lasts from two to three months, and then slowly lifts when the new place becomes familiar. Last time, I swore we weren't moving (together) ever again. But life doesn't always work out the way one plans. We've ended up helping two impoverished close relatives move in the last two months, and a drastic rent hike on our own place means that we're probably going to have to move again soon as well.

    I've always wondered whether his complete inability to cope with moves was a function of his depression, or just his own personal quirk. I grew up as an army brat, so moving raises no personal demons for me - I don't like it, who does?, but it's just a chore to complete. I'm starting to get neurotic about moves now, though, since my Depressed Spouse's extreme reaction to a move, whether big or small, causes significant chaos in our lives.

    As for weddings, we planned it together, but that was Before Depression. (We kept it simple, simple, simple, and as a result we actually enjoyed the day.) I don't honestly know if I would have married him After Depression. That sounds harsh, but it's the truth.

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