February 10, 2015 – Celebrating union

mom and dad 1959 cropped

Niz and Jim – Mom and Dad – in the summer of 1959

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A week ago Friday, my mom and dad were married 55 years.  They met in 1959, when my mom did a summer school session at Cal Berkeley. Sissy, one of her sorority sisters from Long Beach State had married one of my dad’s buddies, Bob. My mom came over to stay with Sissy and Bob and they thought she and my dad might make a nice pair.  They met in a bar – Gene’s Bit of Bohemia in downtown San Anselmo.  My mom, working on a double major in chemistry and math, had grand plans for a career and travel in Europe.  Dad was glad for a date for the summer with a beautiful woman who wasn’t going to try to tie him down.  Almost all of his friends were married by then and he was (still is!) handsome and sweet – quite a catch.  But by the end of the summer, Mom’s plans were out the window – they were head over heels and making entirely other plans.

Dad was 28 and Mom was 21 when they married on January 30, 1960. In those days he was quite old to be starting a family, so they went right to work on making theirs as quickly as possible – my brother Joe was born before the end of the year. I’m second and was born just 11 months after Joe.  The four of us lived in a one-bedroom apartment in Daly City with cribs on either side of their bed.  My mom was working while Dad was finishing a degree in Biology/Botany and getting a teaching credential at SF State.  When she was pregnant with their third, my brother Matt, Dad started teaching at Drake High in San Anselmo. We then moved to Woodacre where they still live. Thirteen months after Matt, came Mike.  Joe was just 3 years, 8 months when Mike was born.  Three in (cloth) diapers at a time, she was a busy mom.  It’s great for all of us that she’s been blessed with the most abundant energy of any human I know!

The years have included some bumps for them (and us), some of them considerable. But their bond has weathered them all.  They are in a new “spring” in their relationship. They wake in the morning and see who can jump in first with “good morning, I love you.”  As in many marriages, the two of them are such different people – sometimes these differences make marriage seem impossible, but now it makes them fit like puzzle pieces, each the perfect match for the other. When asked the secret of their long marriage, Mom says that what she does is focus her energy on what my dad is, not on what he is not.

Sometime recently, I had this thought drift over me – about how remarkable marriage is.  In most families, the married people are the only two who don’t share any of the same genetics.  Parent-children and siblings almost always share DNA, which can have a powerful way of keeping us in relationship. We say blood is thicker than water – clichés are clichés because there is truth to them. And the two people (of any gender) in a marriage share no blood connection.  Sustaining that connection is an enormous challenge when our egos so easily make our mate into the “other” when pushed into the corner.  When I think in these terms, I’m not astonished at the number of marriages that end in divorce, I’m inspired by all those that don’t!

Not all of us have one life-long marriage as my parents have – and as have Joe’s parents – they’ve been married more than 60 years!  But for those of us who have been in marriages that have ended, being in another, as Joe and I have, can bring its own kind of blessing.  We know what it’s like to be with someone with whom coming back around became no longer possible. Breaking the promise I made to my first husband was the hardest choice I’ve had to make in my life, even as it was the life-affirming direction to take.  When it gets really hard – as I believe it does in all marriages – at least those that are fully alive – part of me has thought of leaving.  But then I remind myself that whatever this pain has to teach me will remain until it’s healed within me.  This is hard work – and so worth it.  The ripening, deepening of this relationship with this incredible man I’m married to, is the reward.

This week, I’m finally going to finish the painting I’ve been working on since November. Here it is – two persimmons after an early fall rain.  I’ve been lamenting how I started it in the autumn and it was meant to be painted then. We are now in winter, headed into spring, making it no longer “in season.”   But now, it seems the perfect painting to be working on just before Valentine’s Day.  Valentine’s Day is a mixed bag – it can be a hard day for anyone who isn’t in a situation to snuggle with a sweetheart.  For those who do though – to me – it’s a day to appreciate the miraculous bond that brings two people together to share in one life, and the sweetness that is there amidst the challenges.

always 2-8-15smallerIt’s all here in this painting:  two, cheek to cheek, still sprinkled with the tears of rain (which you will see when it’s finished!). The name for this painting had not popped out until I was working on it last night.  Continuing with my intention to find one-word – if it’s the title of a song, even better – I poked around on iTunes looking up words that were coming to me:  “promise,” “embrace,” “vow.”  They all have songs written about them, but none were it. Then I landed on “Always.”  There are several songs with that title – Bon Jovi has one, and Atlantic Starr, but the one that fit was written by Irving Berlin in 1925 as a gift to his bride-to-be, Ellin.  Here’s Sinatra’s version. It strikes the right note for me. All-ways, in all ways.  The real always of being together and loving each other, one day at a time.  Congratulations on 55 years, Mom and Dad. I love you so very much.

Love,

Cara

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