Monday, June 17, 2013

Marriage is a canoe, not a kayak.

"Just drop 'em," said the guy at Men's Warehouse when I returned six tuxedo rentals yesterday. So I said back to him, "Oh, so they're like Christmas trees." Precious until the morning after. A heaping pile of used, discarded, smelly fabric. Once symbols of elegance, only to be added to the retched mound of refuse.

Looking back, as I told Ross before The Big Day, things enormous quickly become insignificant. So much of our daily lives are like tuxedo rentals. In the end we're going to wonder why we spent so much time and energy caring for and worrying about the little things.

I was talking to Lynette about our wedding which was 14 years ago and imagined a wedding without tuxedos and perfection. I envisioned a circle of tents in the woods with a camp fire and an official who could legally perform the union. Then music and dancing and stars and sky.

14 years later I realized that the symbolic crap regarding a beautiful marriage doesn't come from Men's Warehouse. A strong lasting marriage rears its head when the baby vomits, or when a spouse's mother dies. These are the pillars of a lasting foundation. Not the boutineer that I struggled to attach to my lapel.

Weddings should end with the couple boarding a canoe. Because if you've ever paddled a canoe you know how it tests the bonds of the two people involved. One person cannot paddle it alone.

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