Buying the Tires

Over the past few weeks, some girlfriends have been sending wedding literature and poetry my way. Stephanie Westphal lent me her copy of Elizabeth Gilbert’s, Committed and Laurie Walters got me, “Into the Garden, A Wedding Anthology.” I got a chance to spend some time with both books when Chris and I left town for a few days (more on that later) and am finding them both to be really refreshing and grounding. Suggestions for other books to pick up for pre-marital insight are welcome. I look around and see a lot of books on how to put on a wedding and even more books that propose things to try once your marriage is in trouble. But, I’m not seeing a lot of books about how to prepare oneself for the act of marriage – emotionally, psychically, spiritually. There’s lot’s of advice on how to prepare physically, that mostly revolve around dieting and skincare, but I haven’t been able to mentally pair the wedding with skincare yet. It’ll come, I’m sure.

Another thing I’ve noticed is that none of Chris’ friends are giving him books. Hm. I asked him about this and, though he has been idly browsing through my books, he doesn’t have need of his own books, or any books at all, really. I believe him when he says he’s been ready for four years. He knows what all this means to him. After all, he had to work it all out before he proposed, didn’t he?

Chris is one of the thinkiest people I know. He strategizes all day long in his mind – on paper, on whiteboards, with a stick in the dirt. We have a tablecloth in the filing cabinet, on which he drew a blueprint for one particularly strong and sudden vision. He doesn’t make a move, sometimes to my utter frustration, until he’s worked it all out. One example is researching. Every purchase requires fantastic amounts of researching – for price, durability, design, safety, functionality, sustainability and least amount of people harmed in the process of creating it. That last one can take a few days on its own. If Chris couldn’t research, I’m not sure he’d want to live. I’ll have to ask him. But, I suspect even I might not be enough to fill a hole like that.

After noticing the sound of my teeth grinding during one of his research sessions, he asked a therapist if he wasn’t being reasonable to spend a few weeks of intense research when buying something as important as tires. The therapist responded, “Well, some people just buy the tires.” This was the first time it had occurred to him that his shopping style was “different.”

Before going another step, I have to say that Chris’ dogged enjoyment of research has resulted in some extraordinary purchases, my engagement ring being one of them. It took him almost a year to put it together, but the result is the most perfect ring that a man could ever give me. It’s made of recycled gold, so I know that no landscape was raped and no one was enslaved on my behalf. It sports a sapphire instead of a diamond, completely clearing the whole De Beers thing in one leap and again avoiding any environmental or human collateral damage. And the sapphire is domestic, sustainably mined in Montana. Next, he worked with local jewelers Stan and Hallie Katz at Human Arts for design and assembly, ensuring that some of the purchase would go to support the community in which we live. He made sure that they created a ring with a full bezel, even though that’s highly oddball, because he knew I’d be gardening, backpacking and getting my hands into all kinds of rough situations at the theater and he wanted me to be able to wear my ring without the constant threat of losing the stone from the setting.

A man who puts that much care into the ring is also a man who has his mind right before he proposes marriage. And then there’s been four more years of research since then, as we’ve lived and worked together and explored what it is to be committed while waiting for our opportunity to marry. I believe him. He’s ready.

And so am I. If it were happening tomorrow, I feel sure and clear and so, so happy. But, it’s not happening tomorrow. It’s not happening for another month and change and while Chris feels there could always be more research, I feel I can always be more ready. There is no end to getting prepared. There is always more you can do. And it’s in the getting ready for a thing, that I find so much richness.

Getting ready has included, but is not limited to, writing the wedding musical, which has been an incredibly enriching experience. Because of it, I see even more ways that can connect to and love Chris. I got to go down memory lane and see everything we’ve been through and marvel at the people we’ve become in just seven years. I got to laugh myself out of my chair with Chris and Val (My MOH and long-time Co-Writer) in our writing sessions. And, I got surprised by some lurking issues that I am relieved to have had the opportunity to address before the knot is cinched. Reading poetry, researching the tradition and the ceremony, listening to my friend’s stories, grilling my friend, Reverend Nancy, questioning, probing, turning over rocks, groping in the backs of drawers.

In acting school they told us, “Prepare like your life depends on it, then when you walk on stage, throw it all away.” I think this is the same basic principle. All this prepping is a way of building the aisle, down which I’ll walk. And, I want a solid aisle, not some rope bridge. Once I join Chris at the altar the aisle is behind me, kicked away, like in an Indiana Jones movie when some kind of bloodthirsty hordes are after him. Then he’s on to the next thing. Probably more adventure. Maybe treasure.

~deb

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