At the age of 5, I so admired the lovely bride doll who stood on the glass shelf just above my line of vision. With long blonde hair, real eyelashes forming a pretty fringe around sparkling sapphire eyes, actual pearl drop earrings and a white satin dress trimmed in beadwork and sequins, she was a work of art. Timidly, I told my "single" mother, I would love it if Santa left her beneath the tree that Christmas. On Christmas morning, I used my shakey fingers to unwrap the box that could easily have contained her... Instead, I found a lil red-headed dolly that stared up at me through plastic eyes. Choking back my disappointment, I watched my sisters unwrap their dolls. To my horror, my eldest sister unwrapped that beautiful bride I had so admired and immediately named her "Sue". I named my doll "Cindy Carol Judy Sally Ann Betty" and as soon as I got her alone, lopped off that red hair in chunks! To me, she represented my "invisibility" and Santa's apparent unwillingness to REALLY listen... Whenever my sister was not looking, the bride found her way to the table in front of me... where I would just look at her and dream of the day when I would also be that bride...
The years are many since my first dismal experience as a child... And I have been a true wife, in all of the ways I could find to be a true wife. My love, tho' not full of drama and high intensity, formed a solid and continuous river of affection and partnership for my husbands to sail as they chose to... Hard-working, self-sufficient and capable of coping with enormous stress, I often envied the freer lives of those who did not "care"...
And as I start down the road of my 50's, I now believe that marriage is the experience of piling as much shit as we can find on the beautiful rose that is the romance and sensuality between a man and a woman. We start out with great interest, a beautiful anticipation at the thought of spending time together, dressing up in our best for one another, focussing on one another during our evenings alone, planning surprises and romantic getaways... Then we start to shovel financial responsibilities, division of housework responsibilities, exes, kids, religion, inlaws and money worries onto the beauty we share... And we wonder what happened to who we start to be... Instead of feeling loved, wanted, cherished and needed, we end up in grief and sorrow... feeling the enormity of loneliness within a couple...
And I understand now why Sue... stood on that glass shelf... alone...