Wistful Friday Evening. The First Anniversary Since the Divorce 20100618

No popular culture post tonight, or anything resembling it.  I will come back at this time next week for the installment about Emerson, Lake, and Palmer.  I just did not feel like writing about them for tonight.

Due to the results of my actions, which I will not address here (I have covered them in detail over the past several years), the former Mrs. Translator and I are no longer married.  No fault belongs to her; the fault is all mine.  That is not the point of this post.

You know, thirty-three (33) years is a long time by any human experiential standard.  That period is longer the lives of many readers, I suspect.  Even for older readers, 33 years is a good chunk of time, around one-third of a lifespan for the most aged in our society, and nearly one-half of a lifespan for most people.

In 33 years the United States went from the horse and buggy to the automobile.  In 33 years we went from the V-2 rocket to landing on the moon, and coming home safely, many times.  In 33 years the electric light bulb replaced whale oil and kerosene almost completely for residential lighting.

In 33 years one sees her or his children find mates and in many cases have children of their own.  Mrs. Translator waited for seven years after we married to have children in order to provide a stable environment for them, but Eldest Son is now married (recently), although he is just now 25 years of age.  In 33 years many grandparents and parents become no longer with us.  When we had children, all three of them had all four grandparents living.  Now only one survives.

I have no living parent, and the former Mrs. Translator only her mum, and she is getting on in years and becoming feeble, but still thrives with a sound mind, as well as to be expected at her age, and a body that still serves.  So the boys still have a living grandparent.  I am glad for that.

This post has only one point.  Carefully consider your actions and the unintended consequences that they might imply.  If I can get this to only one reader, I have succeeded.  NEVER take anything for granted, because few things are granted.  A relationship requires constant attention, and give and take on the part of both involved.  I had a heterosexual marriage, but I believe that these words apply equally to homosexual marriages (yes, marriages, I have modified my former belief that civil unions are sufficient.  They are not.).  Faith in each other, honesty, and, above all, fidelity are essential.

In no way am I attempting to give marriage advice.  I am not competent to do so.  I just know that without an honest, open, and sometimes brutally confrontational (with words, NEVER with fists, and neither the former Mrs. Translator nor I ever got physical during disagreements) actions can a relationship last.

If it sounds like I am sort of sad tonight, it is because that I am.  I miss the former Mrs. Translator very, very much.  I made a very awkward call to her tonight, not knowing what the outcome would be.  To me, it is just too important an anniversary to ignore.  Here is the outcome.

Youngest Son answered the telephone and told me what they (he with the former Mrs. Translator) were doing for dinner.  Youngest Son is at the top of his class in culinary school, and does excellent work.  They were cooking an eclectic dinner for the evening, and it sounds very good.  Then he put the former Mrs. Translator on line.

I had intended this to be a very brief call from the outset, and obviously agreed with the spirit of that.  However, our conversation went along these lines, not to betray our actual words.

ME:  Hi, this is sort of awkward, but I wanted to tell you that I will not forget this day.  You are important.

HER:  Yes, it is sort of awkward, but I was thinking of calling you in a minute.

Then there was some small talk about dinner stuff.

We closed by me saying that the most important thing is that we are still best friends.

She said, “We did something pretty important 33 years ago.

I agreed, and then we were ready to get off of the telephone because their dinner was getting close to done.  Without any prompt on my part, as we were saying good-bye, she said, “I love you!”

I repeated the sentence, not for the first time with true meaning.  The call easily could have been one of acrimony, and she would have been completely justified in doing so.  But her Christ-like expression of love has made me weep, and I am still doing so.  I opened the Box of Pandora, but Hope still remains.

For all of you out there who are thinking about doing things that the tiny, little voice in the back of your mind questions, DON’T!  Do not think about tonight, tomorrow, next week, or next year.  Think about 33 years from now, and get a grip.

I am sorry if this sounds like a sermon, but this pastor knows from experience what can happen when the mind strays.  Please think about what your are doing.

Warmest regards,

Doc

Crossposted at Dailykos.com