Scenes from a Marriage - Part Six

Try as I might to conjure up some positives for this series, the images fail me greatly. Perhaps because, in the moment, they seemed positive, but in hindsight - not so much.  I don't know.

Shortly after we were married, we adopted a cat.  I think I was the primary impetus for that, but I'll share the credit, since the cat clung to her immediately, and to me eventually.

In March, after six months of marriage and seemingly devoid of adding a human child to the fold, we decided to go to the local Animal Shelter to find a cat to make our lives complete.

I focused on a 7-year-old who had attracted my attention. Meanwhile, a tiny black kitten had clung himself to her sweater, refusing to give-in.  "OK, I guess we'll take him."

"Well - what about this guy?" I asked as I peered into his furtive glance.

"No. Just one."

I had to say goodbye to the old man who had won my heart.  It wasn't the first time that I had to give-in to something that had won my heart - and it wouldn't be the last.

So, OK - we now have an 8-week-old kitten running around the place.  As with many things, it became my job to take him to the vet for his first visit.  Being non-committal parents, we hadn't decided on a name, and didn't figure we needed one.  When the vet asked for his name for their records, I sputtered out "K.C."  We had been calling him "Kitty Cat," and I didn't want to look like a total jackass, so I came up with initials to make him seem like more of an outlaw than a Gen-X cat.

K.C. would become a vital part of our household.  We shared feeding and playing duties, although she was more of the player and I was more of the feeder - whatever.  The cat was happy.

We allowed him to go outdoors, which is usually verboten.  All he would do was go downstairs and sit under a bush waiting for squirrels or birds to spy on.  He was always inside for the evenings.

When she left, KC hung by the front door. "She's not coming back," I told him - but he persisted. Eventually, he became my cat because - well - cats are like that.  We bonded because, well, it was his home and he had no choice - and I loved him and took care of him until his last day.

We never had any children, and never discussed having children.  We discussed adopting a cat for weeks on end, but never a child.  That's odd, eh?

A bit odd as well that two people could be married for six years and not have any children. It was due to both diligence and negligence.  You see, she dutifully took her birth control pills for the first four years or so.  Once the sex appeal left our marriage, so did the diligence of the pills.  I used to check the medicine cabinet and saw that she had missed several days each week.  I never asked why, but since she was not interested in me sexually, I knew that the point was moot.

As it turned out, KC would outlive our marriage by several years.  I've written about him many times here, and the links can be found easily.  

Cats and dogs are loyal to a fault.  We come home in various moods and stages of discontent or happiness, and their response is always the same. Happy to see us.  There's a lesson someplace, although many fail to see it.  It isn't the person that changes - it's their circumstances.  The circumstances don't matter as much as the person, but the person loses out.

Times get tough, and people bail.  The cat stays. He stays because he knows where his home is. It wasn't chosen for him, but he stays because it is home.

Our opposable thumbs give us the opportunity to turn doorknobs and leave something that challenges us.  It also gives us the opportunity to lock ourselves into something and try to make it work, because it is home.  

Perhaps it depends on who is buying the food?  I don't know, but I wish that people were more like cats.

Cats appreciate me.

Scenes from a Marriage - Part Five

Oh - let's see - what else?  There were good times, too I guess.  As the song goes, "too few to mention."

We had that natural "honeymoon period," even though there was never an actual honeymoon.  That's right.  We planned as minimalist a wedding as one could plan - on mostly our own dime - and afterward, retired to our new home to collapse in two heaps.

I suppose, in retrospect, I could have annulled the marriage early on under the guise of it being non-consummated?  But then, I was never one to demand sex - or anything else, for that matter.

I proposed to her on her birthday.  Not a bit clever, I suppose, but then - what else?  I took her to a nice dinner at The Riverview in Carney's Point (luxurious for New Jersey) and even got down on one knee after dinner to spring my big-time $300 diamond engagement ring on her.  She figured something was up.  We had been dating for about a year-and-a-half, and I guess we both figured, "it's now or never." (another song)

We were married on October 13, 1990 - and for you superstitious types - it was a Saturday.  As I recall, the hottest October 13 on record, which should have clued me in that this was perhaps a marriage made in Hell.

The church was not air-conditioned, and several in the gathering suspected that I was having some sort of heat stroke.

The reception was held in a fire hall (New Jersey) because that was the best we could afford.  A local delicatessen provided the catering.  We hired a DJ.  Her family paid for the photographer.  We paid for everything else.  I remember having $5,000 saved between the time I proposed and we had to pay for all this junk.  Pretty much every paycheck was going toward this soiree.  Money (not) well spent.

The wedding was pretty standard.  Do you? yes. Do you, too? yes. OK, then - you're married.  The real shenanigans happened during the reception.

One of her neighbors provided the "limo" (a big Lincoln of some sort) to the reception, and I remember the both of us being sort of non-plussed with the whole affair.  In hindsight, we should have gone to the Justice of the Peace and saved about $5,000.

We did all the standard DJ reception junk - the dances, smashing the cake in our faces, and all that.  We did the going from table-to-table bit to say 'hello' and collect our gifts.  We got as far as a table with some of her co-workers who broke-out a bottle of Jack Daniel's and well - that was that.  We never got to the last few tables with some of my relatives and some of hers.

When we received all of our gifts, we found that one of my uncles had re-opened his envelope, tore-up the check that he had written and replaced it with a smaller one because we had failed to reach his table.

Another one of her relatives reportedly had some gift of shares of stock to give us, which he rescinded when we missed their table.  The Jack was pretty good, though.

I don't remember if we even talked about taking a honeymoon.  I thought about surprising her with a trip, but I was out of money by the time we were done with everything.  Prior to the wedding, I had been spending days and nights at our new condo, painting and waiting for furniture deliveries.  

It's almost thirty years later, and the paint is still on the walls, the carpeting is still on the floor,  and most of the furniture is still working.

I don't remember how much money we got.  I remember getting a microwave oven, which just recently was replaced by me.  We got some bric-a-brac which still sits in my basement waiting for that yard sale.  I have no idea where the photos are - she probably took them.  I wouldn't want to see them anyway.  I wore glasses, looked like a refugee from the 1980s, and still had my horrible original teeth.  Not that it's that much better now - but those were all preventable issues.

The sad part in all of it is that I felt like it was "do or die" as far as finding a wife was concerned.  That's a horrible reason to marry someone, but there you go.  Here we are some 30 years later and I feel like I was right - it was do or die.  I haven't met anyone since that I would have wanted to marry...

... and perhaps I never will?

At this point in my life I wonder if I will ever truly find someone to love me - and for me to love.  

Time is running low.

Scenes from a Marriage - Part Four

I think I mentioned that I was tempted along the way.  Yeah, I'm certain I did, and I'm certain I was. Once before and once after.  One I wish I had gone with and one I am happy that I did not.

The One Before:
I do not remember when exactly it was during my time with my future ex-wife that it happened.  It was certainly after she left the company that we had both worked for, and in one of those periods where I felt like maybe - we weren't meant to be together.

My company hired a woman - Gisele - and I could tell you her surname if I remembered how to spell it.  Geisele, if memory serves.  Anyway, I thought  Gisele was a beautiful name, and she differed.  "Call me GG," she demanded, and so I did, although I would occasionally throw-in a Gisele, because I liked the way it sounded.  And, I liked the way she looked and the way she paid attention to me and laughed at my stupid jokes.  Generally, I liked her.

We struck-up a friendship and, in the absence of my future ex-wife, we came to be closer, sharing lunch times together and talking about stuff in our lives.

At some point in the relationship, I asked that her and I become a couple, and she refused.  I do not remember (or choose not to remember) if my future ex and I were engaged at the time or merely seriously dating, but much to Gisele's credit, she declined my offer, not wishing to be the dividing stick between us.  I thought I saw something in us (me and Gisele) that I didn't see in me and my future ex, and ... well ... perhaps I was correct?  I'll never know, since she left the company and my company before either of us could find out for real.

It is one of the two huge regrets of my life - the other may come in a later missive - and while I admire Gisele's deference to someone she never met, I also regretted the idea that we never had the opportunity to explore our relationship and find out if we were indeed meant for each other.

It did not occur to me at the time - only that I felt that I was torn between two women - that it was possible that I had made the wrong turn - or that she had encouraged me to make the wrong turn.  Gisele and I had a brief discussion at one point where she explained that she explained that I was in love with my future ex-wife, and it would never work out between us.  I thought differently, but lacked the necessary logic to make my point.

I have forever regretted that mistake in judgement.

Although, I will never know if I was right or wrong - only that my fate was wrong.

I have tried to look up Gisele on this Internet, but the attempts have failed.  I'm not sure what I expected to accomplish, only that a lonely man in regret could somehow find closure in a relationship that he wishes he had pursued in hindsight.

But ... hindsight is always correct, so I guess I shouldn't second-guess second-guessing?