Mrs. H.

Sooner or later we begin to understand that love is more than verses on valentines and romance in the movies. We begin to know that love is here and now, real and true, the most important thing in our lives. For love is the creator of our favorite memories, and the foundation of our fondest dreams. Love is a promise that is always kept, a fortune that can never be spent, a seed that can flourish in even the most unlikely of places. And this radiance that never fades, this mysterious and magical joy, is the greatest treasure of all –one known only by those who love.

Unknown

So, I did a thing. I got married.

Never – not once – since 1991 did I believe I would choose to allow another man to infiltrate my heart, my family, and my life. But, it happened. We eloped.

Dr. B. is now Mrs. H.

David and I were raised in the same rural town on the desert plains of Southeastern Colorado, where my parents graduated from high school in 1957 with David’s mother and her twin sister. In the early 1900s, my great-grandparents homesteaded south of town next door to David’s grandparents. As the story goes, my grandparents got their water from his grandparents’ well.

David and his siblings were around the same age as my siblings. As elementary students, David and my sister played Mr. and Mrs. Cratchit in the school production of A Christmas Carol. As a result, my sister likes to tell people that she was married to David first. We were teammates on the local swim team, although, at that time, I was certainly the obnoxious little brat as far as all the older siblings were concerned (David’s sister’s words, not mine). Although I’m younger than David, we were youth actors/crew together in a couple community theater productions, which is when I first realized how super-awesome he is.

We graduated from high school four years apart, and I don’t think I saw him in person but a time or two since we reconnected two years ago. What was supposed to be a quick lunch to catch up, turned into an eight-hour conversation with promises to meet again in a couple of days.

We spent quite a bit of time together, and then I left for five months for the Covid Revenge World Tour and Semester at Sea. David met me in Greece for my birthday in October. When my house flooded over Christmas when I was in Israel, David took care of everything. I finally returned stateside in January 2023, and we’ve been inseparable since.

We’ve both had traditional wedding ceremonies in the past, but all we’ve ever wanted was a marriage. Therefore, we bypassed the formalities and simply spent a day doing what we enjoy with the person we love most. In Colorado, a couple can get married without witnesses or an officiant. Self-solemnization allows couples to exchange vows and tie the knot in a private, intimate ceremony. Perfect!

I had mentioned once that I would prefer a ring that he makes in his woodshop, rather than a traditional diamond. Knowing that the shop wouldn’t be built for a couple of years, I jokingly suggested he pick up a ring from a gumball machine. He didn’t forget. He mentioned there had to be cake, but not a wedding cake – a birthday cake (he has his own hilarious reason for this even though our birthdays are in October & November). I didn’t forget. Our childhood friend, Betty, made a cake with blue flowers (his favorite color). We cut the cake and kindly fed each other the first piece.

We went to a couple of movies and took our wedding photos in a photo booth at the movie theater. By the end of the day, we shared a few words and I signed my name “Mrs. H.” No wedding, just a marriage.

“I am not the first person you loved.
You are not the first person I looked at
with a mouthful of forevers. We
have both known loss like the sharp edges
of a knife. We have both lived with lips
more scar tissue than skin. Our love came
unannounced in the middle of the night.
Our love came when we’d given up
on asking love to come. I think
that has to be part
of its miracle.
This is how we heal.
I will kiss you like forgiveness. You
will hold me like I’m hope. Our arms
will bandage and we will press promises
between us like flowers in a book.
I will write sonnets to the salt of sweat
on your skin. I will write novels to the scar
of your nose. I will write a dictionary
of all the words I have used trying
to describe the way it feels to have finally,
finally found you.

And I will not be afraid
of your scars.

I know sometimes
it’s still hard to let me see you
in all your cracked perfection,
but please know:
whether it’s the days you burn
more brilliant than the sun
or the nights you collapse into my lap
your body broken into a thousand questions,
you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
I will love you when you are a still day.
I will love you when you are a hurricane.”

“Mouthful of Forevers” by Clementine von Radics