So, one April day we went and tied the knot

When Wendy and I decided, after some deliberation -- after quite a lot of deliberation, in fact – that it would be pleasing at many levels to set up housekeeping under the same roof, and to share bed and board, we neither was prepared to couch any discussion of formalized matrimony.

That is, we didn’t want to get hitched – either then or at any point in the foreseeable future.

We had both been down that perilous matrimonial path before and we knew it was dotted with pitfalls and, at the outset at least, unforeseen hurdles that can ultimately prove insurmountable.

Ironically, when we had started dating, a few months prior to the time we decided to shack up, we had come into the fledgling relationship with a number of criteria concerning what we would be looking for, and what would not be acceptable by the same token. To our astonishment we found that our personal criteria were virtually the same.

Initially I was wary about even living together. I had a nice condo apartment, and Wendy had a very appealing townhouse. We overnighted on a fairly regular basis before we shared digs – OK, Ma, I confess, I was intimate with this lady – and that was working out OK. But, we finally decided to take the plunge and to not have to drive across town to see each other.

But marriage? Marriage was a big thing and we were shy about it. My second marriage was a rebound made in hell, for both my ex and myself. I’ll take full culpability for my role in the rapid break-up that followed. Whether she acknowledges her role would be for her to decide, and I wouldn’t dream of going there. As for Wendy’s matrimonial experience, I won’t go there either. That’s hers and not for me to elaborate upon.

We did come to know during our first few months together that we were pretty stable people and virtually no glitches manifested themselves. We’d learned from our bad experiences and we really were doing it differently this time. And, by God, it was working. We realized we were mighty happy together and adored each other’s company.

As time passed we realized instinctively that we were compatible at virtually ‘all’ levels, the fun ones and the serious ones. I know for me that my first marriage, while based on what I thought I knew about love – and I didn’t know a great deal about it at the time; nobody in their early 20s does, despite how much they might protest to the contrary – and also by the conventions of the day. The ‘expectations’ of the day, if you will, was ultimately doomed to fail.

My second was an emotional rebound and was hugely influenced by sheer animal lust. Great fun with a person who seemed to be a delight to be with. It would have been a fantastic affaire de coeur, but nothing more than that.

This one was different and very much better. And we just came to a mutual understanding that we were prepared to give this thing another shot. We also vowed that this one would be a keeper. This one would be the one we should have had all along. We also felt that the level of commitment demanded by marriage would cement it all in place.

So, we did it. We exchanged vows. Vows uttered with the utmost of sincerity.

That was 10 years ago this month.

And I still wouldn’t change a thing.

Rah for us!