Anniversaries

There are many days through out the year that deserve to be celebrated. Birthdays are important. It is the one day of the year that belongs to you. It is the day on which you should be permitted a certain degree of freedom to do what you like. Have ice cream for breakfast, champagne for tea, black forest for lunch, champagne for tea, and dinner at your favourite restaurant starting with dessert. A no holds barred day when your wishes are important.

Then there are the days we share: religious celebrations such as Christmas, Passover, Easter, Diwali, Holli all part of a long list. Births and deaths and miracles tend to be the ones celebrated by religions. In the secular world it is generally the supposedly significant days of our lives that we celebrate. We hold dear the memories of graduating from high school, from university along with the days that signify the passing of stages of life. Our homes are full of photographs that tell the story of who we are. Children, parents, siblings, friends and places are collected in photograph albums and in photo frames. These are usually positive recollections that help us through difficult times of separation and sadness. I think one of the nicest things a parent can give a young adult when they leave home is a photo album with copies of pictures from their childhood. Not just ones of family posed because it was Christmas or a birthday but also the ones that are random snap shots of friends, pets, scenery and the myriad of things that make up a childhood. A short history of life to date.

Of course there are also anniversaries that are not celebrated. The anniversay of the passing of a loved one, the day a pet died, the day you discovered a betrayal, the day of an operation that changed your life. These are anniversaries that we tend to keep to ourselves. Some cultures do the opposite. In some Madagascan societies a year after the death of a loved one there is a reburial and a huge celebration of the life of the deceased. Other religions suggest that candles are lit and masses offered for the soul of the departed. Some people plant trees in memory of the deceased. Others spend the day in quiet reflection. Mourning is a part of the human condition. We can not escape it. We try to. We avoid it. We don't like to talk about it but there it is: always the unwelcome guest in our lives.

Which brings me to marriage. A leap I know but hang in there with me. Marriage is a pledge. It is a public announcement, and for some before God, that two people are making a commitment to each other. Most marriage vows include the words faithful, help, honour, love, and cherish. Of course in the middle of an argument few of us stop to remind ourselves that honour was part of our vows. When he is being a giant jackass and she is being a selfish madam we don't pause and rush towards each other with outstretched arms saying that we are there to help each other. The vows are supposed to be taken by each party in good faith that the other person will do their utmost to abide by them. The divorce statistics prove that a large number of people fail. Perhaps we expect too much from marriage. Perhaps the mistake lies in the hype of the wedding. An expensive dress, a lavish feast, the fuss made over the bride, the gushing and fawning of the guests ... maybe it would be better if the ceremony was trimmed. There are far too many expectations of happy ever after.

The warning for Bathsheba came when Gabriel Oak uttered these words:
"And at home by the fire, whenever you look up there I shall be— and whenever I look up, there will be you." with the result that the girl fled before there could be a wedding. She could only think of the wedding not the marriage and he thought of the marriage rather than the wedding.
I think the programme "Say Yes to the Dress" reveals that a large number of brides are Bathshebas who are bound to be disappointed with their own Gabriel Oak once the wedding photos are in the album and the kitchen floor needs cleaning and there is a pile of bills to be paid.

Yet there are some people who celebrate marriage not only once a year but most days. I knew a couple who did just that. Each morning they were pleased to see each other. They were generally kind and caring towards each other. They respected each other and were friends. They loved each other even when they were not in love with each other. As a teenage they fascinated me. To be in their home was to see a celebration of life. You could feel it when you stepped into their home. It was visible in the glances they exchanged. In the hugs they gave each other and their family and friends. So I asked Aunty Winn what was the secret.
"Be kind, be generous and considerate. And be friends," was her reply.
No lecture. No discussion. Nothing added.

If I was to renew vows taken at 20, those would be the ones I would say. She did not say "be in love" nor did she say "expect endless love". Yet she gave love because she was kind, generous and considerate. She respected her husband in a myriad of small ways. That did not mean that she agreed with him all the time. Nor did it mean that she did not have her own opinions. It was more that they both gave each other the love they had for all that was around them - for their home, their children, their extended family and all the good things in their lives. They were not rich. Their lives had not been easy but in their seventies, after fifty years of marriage, they seemed to have discovered that kindness, generosity, and consideration were the things that they needed in their lives and which they gave each other freely.

And there is the secret: freely. When we carry an account book in which to write up our relationships we find ourselves becoming dissatisfied and critical. We tend to make marks in the wrong columns because we expect people to do things for us instead of doing things for the people we love and like. There is no accounting system that will not make me dissatisfied if I start saying to myself "I did this but he didn't do that ... I did this .." etc. Certainly if everything is one sided I am not suggesting smiling and accepting the situation yet sometimes the load is uneven because our partner is unable to carry anything other than the smallest of loads. This is exactly when we need to pause to look at our loved one and ask what we can do to help lighten it for them.

Sainthood is not the goal. Contentment and gladness is the goal. Not endless happiness. Not perfect love. This brings me to anniversaries. We celebrate big days with gusto (or we should) but we also need to celebrate the small days; those ordinary days that make up 99% of our lives before we lose the privilege of being able to be kind, generous and considerate to one another. Time is always the victor no matter how fast we run. Instead of waiting for the big anniversaries maybe it is wiser to collect small moments to cherish so that we will see our blessings are far greater than we ever thought them to be.

Plus it gives us the excuse to have a form of celebration every day! Is that the sound of something fizzy ... excuse me something needs my attention.