My best friend Donna has been having a horrible, horrible week. A particularly catastrophic monster of a week. Job loss, car trouble, identity theft; you name it. Normally I would just drive to her house and take her out, or hole ourselves up and watch CSI: Las Vegas or any number of corny and/or sappy films. But since so many miles separate us, I thought I’d try to make her laugh and forget her situation for just a little while.
And what’s the easiest way to make someone laugh, kids? Poking fun at yourself! So, I shared with her something I thought I’d never admit in this lifetime: I think I’m changing my mind about marriage.
Growing up, I told myself marriage was not for me. I didn’t see many stable ones in my parents’ generation, and the divorce rate has only increased. Of course, marriage doesn’t have to be for everyone, and coming from divorced parents, I didn’t think it was bloody likely for me.
While all the girls in middle school and high school planned out every detail of their future weddings, I remained tight-lipped, only dropping opinions on the color of the bridesmaids’ dresses. I refused to wear any pink or magenta tafetta/satin/chiffon monstrosity.
Donna and a couple of other friends used to tell me I’d change my mind once the right man came along, but I always shrugged it off. It wasn’t a big concern of mine.
But as I get older, the more I admire a successful marriage. A successful marriage is a beautiful, admirable alliance between two people for whom the odds are usually not so fantastic. My wonderful grandparents were married for more than 50 years; and their bond remains even after my grandma passed away.
I realized there is no reason for me to shy away from this possibility.
But I digress. After divulging this, Donna laughed for a bit. She said it was a bit of a coincidence that I should tell her this, when just the other day she was complaining to her sister that it was unfair. All of her other friends already had preassigned maids of honor. Doomed, she was, to never be a maid of honor because of my stubbornness.
Woops. See, Damo, there is always hope. Stranger things have happened. Perhaps one day I’ll change my mind about creepy little children too.
I hope this week has improved a little bit for you.