Perhaps it's always been this way. Perhaps throughout the vast generations of men and women loving each other and following that grand old ritual of courtship, flowing into the promise of engagement, then fulfilling the sacrament of marriage, men and women have always struggled with the disparate nature of their excitement for the impending ceremony. The timing, the levels of anxiety, that search in the other's eyes for the light of acknowledgement... the agreement of the weight of the occasion to be undertaken... this does not always occur simultaneously. It cannot be faked either. Insincerity in a relationship is quickly discovered by the lover as she or he sees the slight look away, the withdrawn muscle, the aura of falseness. No one should dare to try to sell that lie, to fake enthusiasm, because it is quickly resented, and trust is a hard thing to earn.
Since early May of 2011, when I asked for Anna's hand in a beautiful restaurant in the Renaissance Center overlooking the blue Detroit River, she has poured over details in magazines and on the internet. She has searched through examples of other weddings, cataloged countless ideas from glossy pictures of models in dresses, flowers, centerpieces, locations, and all the other untold minutiae that goes into putting together a wedding. I've watched her agonize, trying to reconcile the vision of the wedding she's always dreamed of with the desire to satisfy the needs of friends and family who will grace us with their presence. She has had to do all this while at the same time keeping up with an enormous work load. At times she has been overwhelmed. At times she has been overjoyed. She began counting down, marking each second day of each month with a smile and the question, "You know what today is...?" Up until recently, the best I could do was muster a smile, laugh and say, "Six months until our wedding day." I simply couldn't match her excitement. While the vision was being layered like warm blankets on a cold bed, I sat in the background wondering how she could invest so much into an event that seemed so distant, a light on the horizon. For me, I've held my excitement in reserve, because it would make the waiting so agonizing, almost unbearable. Time, months... weeks... days, would drag until, like her, I would be burned out, wishing only for an end to the wait, for the day to arrive.
For her, each new task she has accomplished has been a joyful occasion. Booking rooms, arranging for the flowers, finding a location, buying a dress, these things have been torches on the path leading to a distant hillside, at the tail end of a summer, under the warm afternoon light, in front of hundreds of friends and family, by my side. Trying not to dwell on that day has been like sailing against the wind, and I know I have been of little help to her. The fact is she knows what she wants. She knows how the room should look, how the ceremony should go, what kind of menu she wants to offer, what kind of music she wants to hear, and she knows how to go about getting it. I've listened, offered alternatives, helped her in her considerations, but the truth is all her ideas are well thought out and along the same lines as mine. While I've played a role, it has been minor, and I've been fairly stress free for all this time, able to carry on with other things while this long year and a half has dragged on. Until this weekend.
May 4 will mark the year anniversary of my marriage proposal to Anna. We will celebrate by returning to that restaurant for a meal. There will be four months left, a third of a year, of this seemingly endless stretch of time until the day we are married. That knowledge has begun to seep through to me. I see now that there are many small details that need to be dealt with, and the overall painting of the wedding needs to be shaded and detailed. These kinds of details can't be done alone, and now the things she needs from me are being more defined. The role is changing.
On Saturday, we went to a mall, to a Men's Warehouse in order to be fitted for a tuxedo for a friend's wedding I will be attending in November. While we were there we visited a jewelry store in order to find out what size ring I needed so we could order it online. We were simply looking to find out the size ring I needed because we had a pretty good idea what kind of ring I wanted. However, like many surprises life offers us, we found a fantastic copper colored tungsten carbide ring that simply jumped out at me, like it was waiting there the whole time. Perhaps this is the one thing that gives men a feeling comparable to a woman finding her dress. Anna watched me with a knowing smile as I danced to the music in the mall, and swayed in that golden light that seems to shine on true believers. I was, and am, in the trance of love, and the agony of waiting has become very real to me.
Maybe this is the way of things. Maybe this staggering of excitement is part of the ritual, ordained for the purpose of infusing new life and new energy into the couple when the hardship of anticipation is most keen, allowing the one who is working the hardest a moment of relief, a re-freshening, so that the work can get done, and the hopeful feelings of a lifetime can be invigorated. Until we meet again...
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