Russel and I got married at the Museum of Contemporary Art in La Jolla (I'm an atheist and he is an artist, so it worked for us). The coastal location atop the cliffs was stunning. Our ceremony was supposed to start at 4, but the minister had the time wrong, so he was almost an hour late. So there was a lot of socializing and drinking before the actual wedding. As the bride, I was in a dressing room surrounded by my mom, grandmother and female cousins. I had time to get my hair & tiara-veil-thingy to finally look right, have a few laughs, and I even had a glass of champagne. Everyone was pretty darn cheery by the time I walked down the aisle. People who attended have told me that it was their favorite wedding ever. We have never looked back and our commitment to each other is still strong after 33 plus years.
This sounds like a wonderful wedding! So relaxed and happy. And 33 years is something to celebrate. Yay to both of you. If I had some champagne I'd toast!
Another great post, Betsy! I loved the story of your wedding, and especially those photos. I was only 24 when I got married, so of course I got sucked into the big church wedding and reception our families wanted...even though I’m an introvert and an atheist. Sigh.
As for your question about commitment, yes. Marriage was the first big one I ever made, but the most lasting one for me has been motherhood. I’ve had that “so many years ahead” feeling you describe, many times, but just ten years from now (!) my oldest will be 22, and I’m sure I’ll be right there in the “too few” feelings. It’s just very hard to imagine right now!
Time is such a slippery beast, especially when it comes to relationships. I can testify that the so many" years I saw when my son was ten turned into "too few." Way sooner than I expected. Thank you for your kind words.
“We’re all a little weird. And life is a little weird. And when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall into mutually satisfying weirdness—and call it love—true love.”
~ Robert Fulghum, True Love
This always rang true to me. And it’s worked for me and my husband, now going on 30 years of marriage.
How I love "the morning after" photo of you...in bed reading, smiling. Me: First Marriage at the Immaculata Church at USD the weekend of the Cuban Missile Crisis. My brother-in-law was in the Marines at the time and was on alert so my sister, my maid-of-honor, didn't make the wedding. Second wedding: Judge Sweetem's Marriage Parlour, Miami, Oklahoma. The world series played on the television in the outer office and the ceremony was interrupted by a home run hit by one of the teams or the other that both my not-yet-husband and Judge Sweetem himself had to leave the proceedings to witness. The third... well that was a sweet one that took and I took the name "Reeves."
I get the Cuban missile crisis but BASEBALL????! But,like Goldilocks, you kept trying until you got it right. I'm glad you found the "sweet one" that took.
I love your description of how of you felt after getting married for the second time. I can certainly relate. The thought of venturing back into the dating pool is terrifying.
An interesting “musing” Betsy because it is an ongoing path once we choose it. Not just a day or a year when it comes to marriage! Sometimes hour by hour. Congratulations on your anniversary and may your years together continue in good health and happiness. We just celebrated our 60th and people wonder “how”. Well, good health and just keep looking ahead to each day and the adventure it brings. As all of us oldies say: We only go this way once. With love from your ( now) wise old aunt.
Happy Anniversary, Betsy! Weddings are on my mind because I watched my granddaughter marry her girlfriend last night in front of loving and supportive families (both sides) and friends. The officiant was the aunt of my granddaughter's (now) wife. I was moved to tears by what a huge deal this was to both young women.
Re other commitments. In November 1987 I made a commitment to myself to write every day. I've written nearly every day since. Some of those days are devoted to editing or offering my work (I shun the word submission), but it is a commitment I keep. It has allowed me to produce a mountain of work, but more than that, it gives a shape to my life, a reason to get up every morning, and something to be proud of when I take stock at the end of a month or year.
Also, when I take something on, it is a commitment. I do not commit to things I am not sure I can finish or do properly. This means I learned to say no. And to ask for help when I need it. All these things changed my life for the better.
I'm reading your last paragraph again , nodding my head. "I do not commit to things I am not sure I can finish." I can't say that for myself though. I've never been sure I can finish. I just know I am committed to trying. Even with my writung. That seems to be working. I do agree that making the commitment gives shape to our days and, hence, our lives.
Thank you so much, Elizabeth, for the shout! It means a lot that you've enjoyed my work.
I married (for the second time) almost 31 years ago and where has the time gone? Such a cliché, but terrifyingly true. I'm not sure how we've done it, but four kids and some hard life later, it's a comfort to discover that we're still in love. The magic is in the everyday. What's for dinner? What should we watch next? Give me a ride, pick up some wine. Someone to finish your thoughts and pick up the dropped metaphors. As you say so eloquently, "it wasn’t just a person I was committing to but a new live thing called a marriage that has taken on a life of its own."
Dani Shapiro writes in "Hourglass: Time, Memory, Marriage": “Our shared vocabulary—our own language—will die with us. We are the treasure itself: fathoms deep, in the world we have made and made again.” A lovely little book about marriage.
You've given me more reading! And I loved the way that "Fates and Furies" so perfectly illustrated the fact that a marriage is TWO stories. Each partner's perspective on the thing is distinct, each experience a standalone. That book still haunts me.
Happy anniversary! 💙
Thank you, Luiza!
Russel and I got married at the Museum of Contemporary Art in La Jolla (I'm an atheist and he is an artist, so it worked for us). The coastal location atop the cliffs was stunning. Our ceremony was supposed to start at 4, but the minister had the time wrong, so he was almost an hour late. So there was a lot of socializing and drinking before the actual wedding. As the bride, I was in a dressing room surrounded by my mom, grandmother and female cousins. I had time to get my hair & tiara-veil-thingy to finally look right, have a few laughs, and I even had a glass of champagne. Everyone was pretty darn cheery by the time I walked down the aisle. People who attended have told me that it was their favorite wedding ever. We have never looked back and our commitment to each other is still strong after 33 plus years.
This sounds like a wonderful wedding! So relaxed and happy. And 33 years is something to celebrate. Yay to both of you. If I had some champagne I'd toast!
Another great post, Betsy! I loved the story of your wedding, and especially those photos. I was only 24 when I got married, so of course I got sucked into the big church wedding and reception our families wanted...even though I’m an introvert and an atheist. Sigh.
As for your question about commitment, yes. Marriage was the first big one I ever made, but the most lasting one for me has been motherhood. I’ve had that “so many years ahead” feeling you describe, many times, but just ten years from now (!) my oldest will be 22, and I’m sure I’ll be right there in the “too few” feelings. It’s just very hard to imagine right now!
Time is such a slippery beast, especially when it comes to relationships. I can testify that the so many" years I saw when my son was ten turned into "too few." Way sooner than I expected. Thank you for your kind words.
“We’re all a little weird. And life is a little weird. And when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall into mutually satisfying weirdness—and call it love—true love.”
~ Robert Fulghum, True Love
This always rang true to me. And it’s worked for me and my husband, now going on 30 years of marriage.
Here's to finding the weird one who is compatible! I love that whole idea.
How I love "the morning after" photo of you...in bed reading, smiling. Me: First Marriage at the Immaculata Church at USD the weekend of the Cuban Missile Crisis. My brother-in-law was in the Marines at the time and was on alert so my sister, my maid-of-honor, didn't make the wedding. Second wedding: Judge Sweetem's Marriage Parlour, Miami, Oklahoma. The world series played on the television in the outer office and the ceremony was interrupted by a home run hit by one of the teams or the other that both my not-yet-husband and Judge Sweetem himself had to leave the proceedings to witness. The third... well that was a sweet one that took and I took the name "Reeves."
I get the Cuban missile crisis but BASEBALL????! But,like Goldilocks, you kept trying until you got it right. I'm glad you found the "sweet one" that took.
loved knowing more about your love story -
I love your description of how of you felt after getting married for the second time. I can certainly relate. The thought of venturing back into the dating pool is terrifying.
Yes, terrifying. That's another whole subject!
An interesting “musing” Betsy because it is an ongoing path once we choose it. Not just a day or a year when it comes to marriage! Sometimes hour by hour. Congratulations on your anniversary and may your years together continue in good health and happiness. We just celebrated our 60th and people wonder “how”. Well, good health and just keep looking ahead to each day and the adventure it brings. As all of us oldies say: We only go this way once. With love from your ( now) wise old aunt.
Thanks, Cath!!! And I remember your wedding very well indeed. Happy 60th and two months!
Happy Anniversary, Betsy! Weddings are on my mind because I watched my granddaughter marry her girlfriend last night in front of loving and supportive families (both sides) and friends. The officiant was the aunt of my granddaughter's (now) wife. I was moved to tears by what a huge deal this was to both young women.
Re other commitments. In November 1987 I made a commitment to myself to write every day. I've written nearly every day since. Some of those days are devoted to editing or offering my work (I shun the word submission), but it is a commitment I keep. It has allowed me to produce a mountain of work, but more than that, it gives a shape to my life, a reason to get up every morning, and something to be proud of when I take stock at the end of a month or year.
Also, when I take something on, it is a commitment. I do not commit to things I am not sure I can finish or do properly. This means I learned to say no. And to ask for help when I need it. All these things changed my life for the better.
I'm reading your last paragraph again , nodding my head. "I do not commit to things I am not sure I can finish." I can't say that for myself though. I've never been sure I can finish. I just know I am committed to trying. Even with my writung. That seems to be working. I do agree that making the commitment gives shape to our days and, hence, our lives.
Sending gratitude for the adventures you help us travel every Saturday!
You are so kind, Andrea!
Amen, Sister Rabbit. Amen to it all. I'll stop there or I'll be writing way too much . . .
Thank you so much, Elizabeth, for the shout! It means a lot that you've enjoyed my work.
I married (for the second time) almost 31 years ago and where has the time gone? Such a cliché, but terrifyingly true. I'm not sure how we've done it, but four kids and some hard life later, it's a comfort to discover that we're still in love. The magic is in the everyday. What's for dinner? What should we watch next? Give me a ride, pick up some wine. Someone to finish your thoughts and pick up the dropped metaphors. As you say so eloquently, "it wasn’t just a person I was committing to but a new live thing called a marriage that has taken on a life of its own."
Dani Shapiro writes in "Hourglass: Time, Memory, Marriage": “Our shared vocabulary—our own language—will die with us. We are the treasure itself: fathoms deep, in the world we have made and made again.” A lovely little book about marriage.
You've given me more reading! And I loved the way that "Fates and Furies" so perfectly illustrated the fact that a marriage is TWO stories. Each partner's perspective on the thing is distinct, each experience a standalone. That book still haunts me.
I love the line from Dani Shapiro's book. Thank you. I've read about Shapiro and an essay here and there but have never really read her books.n
Thanks, Courtney!