This weekend I attended an amazing wedding. The groom was handsome, the bride beyond beautiful. They are a perfect couple, both of them upbeat, fun and adventurous. (Normally, I hate people like that but since they are young, I'm giving them a pass.) I learned two things about myself from this experience, 1) It turns out I DO like little pieces of filet covered with parmesan cheese on a stick and 2) I want my daughter to get married, like tomorrow.
Now this may sound strange coming from a woman who is divorced, especially one who was left for a younger model with way better hair. Sure I went through that "Men suck" phase where I basically started off every conversation with, "Hi. OMG I hate men don't you?" One time I was sitting at a friend's house and her husband walked into the kitchen, opened the refrigerator and said "We're out of milk," before retiring to the den. I was like "OMG you don't have to take that abuse! How can you live with someone like that? Get your stuff. You are so outta here!"
Thankfully for all concerned I'm over that now. You can all stop hiding from me in the grocery store. I promise not to run up to you with my cart anymore, yelling "This is great! Men suck! I can eat whatever I want!" with tears running down my face as I load it up with Chardonnay and salt and vinegar chips. Ahh... good times... good times...
Anyway, I had to ask myself why do I feel so strongly about marriage for my daughter? (BTW I have two daughters, one in late twenties, one in early twenties. This is directed to the elder of the two... don't even think about it Haley.) Of course one reason is that I see myself in a beautiful gown walking her down the aisle. Yes, Jewish mothers walk their children down the aisle. We are not about to be left out of anything where we can wear an expensive dress and have everyone look at us. Also, I will be gliding down the aisle to the theme song from Out of Africa. Not open for discussion, Meredith.
The other reason, is that even after a gut wrenching parting from my husband of 27 years and a divorce that left us both crying in the judge's chamber, the fact is...I still believe. I still believe in marriage, I still believe in the institution and I still believe it is more than just a piece of paper. I believe it is the foundation of our society and yes, I believe that ALL people are entitled to experience it.
As I have said before in previous posts, we are not the same people at 50 that we are at 20. However our kids are getting married later then we did. Women are working at the same level as men with just as much intensity and focus. Couples are sharing the child rearing and home chores. It's no longer "I do this" and "You do this," it seems to be more of a "WE do this together." The newly married couple I met this weekend seem to know each other very well, have been together for a few years, have the same goals and respect each other's individuality. They are in their early thirties. These kids, I believe have a fighting chance. Also, they put a lot of thought into marriage and what it entails.
I on the other hand was in college, on my way to a Spanish test that I did not study for, and was thinking "Oh crap, is this Mexican casserole night in the cafeteria? I think I just want to get married and chill." I turned on my heels, called my boyfriend/husband to be, said "Come get me," and withdrew from school. The rest is history.
So yes, I believe in marriage and I believe this new generation has a shot at getting it right. They know each other better, they have more life experiences, they have goals and aspirations that they tackle as a couple. They get it.
In the meantime my daughter keeps her dating life on the down low, however, if there are any gentlemen out there between the ages of 30-35, looking for a true life partner, a mother in law who loves beef on a stick and who will be bringing him his bride to the tune of Out of Africa, feel free to contact me.
Tune in for my next post when I describe how I see this wedding going down with my ex's new wife throwing cake at me and my wedding toast which will be an hour-long summation of my life leading up to the moment at hand.