Re: Wed

I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the abbreviation of Wednesday is Wed., especially when you think how the mid-week day is affectionately called Hump Day. I’m being cheeky of course, because there is more to being wed than having sex, or whatever day you choose to enjoy that activity. To be wedded implies a union like no other, a bond that is more than just the sum of its parts.

My 95 year old special mom got me thinking about this word when she commented how the flavours of the stew my bride was making needed to take time to marry. “It’s always better the next day.” She stated. I thought about my marriage in that context and made her laugh by suggesting that her daughter and I, after twenty years together, must be very tasty indeed. Our conversation went to tales of marriages of convenience, shotgun weddings and also fairy tale romances, like in the film Princess Bride. I told her about a neighbour of mine who once had a delightfully amusing remarriage on the front lawn of their suburban home. They dressed in hillbilly clothes and, instead of kissing his renewed wife, the aging groom was encouraged to throw his bride over his shoulder and “Git!”

In some religions, marriage is a sacrament. To me, it’s a loving attachment that is mutually beneficial. I don’t believe that deciding to live together with others in a shared experience can be any less holy simply because of a lack of paperwork or an official stamp of approval. Being unwed used to carry a stigma and usually women suffered the disparaging remarks associated with shacking-up with someone or, gods forbid, not finding a mate and thus becoming a spinster! Society can be cruel when judgement defines its culture. My own children have taken marital arrangements in the broad sense of finding someone with whom they wish to share life.

I’ve had two different marriages: One was traditional with church service and reception followed by a honeymoon. A wedding so old fashioned in ceremony that my best man even read out telegrams we received from far away lands. We had a tiered cake. We lit two candles for ourselves, then used that light for a single candle to represent our union. The singing of hymns proclaimed our love. My second marriage was an elopement to a distant island where days were spent holding hands while strolling barefoot on the beach. Just the two of us, the music in our hearts. Some of our friends and family sent candles in our luggage as a beautiful form of blessing which added historical connection. Idyllic. Eden-like. A twinning experience. We faced the future together.

I’m wedded to the idea of the possible. Aspects of cultural formality in the eyes of society and church may have their place yet I prefer to think that structures are often arbitrary. I enjoy stories of humans who overcome convention in their work, recreation, and love lives. I still feel newly-wed. Learning about another soul takes a lifetime of Wednesdays.