Man and Wife

Man And Wife

by Nicole DeMille

As the apple tree among the trees of the woods, so is my beloved among the sons.

I sat down under his shadow, whom I desired. Song of Solomon 2:3

Speaking indifferently to him, who had driven out the cold and polished my good shoes as well. What did I know, what did I know of love’s austere and lonely offices?

~~Robert Hayden, “Those Winter Sundays”

I believe in love at first sight. I met my husband on a blind date and knew by the next morning that I would marry him. Then we dated. For seven years. My daughter, ever curious about my life before she came along, and now old enough to do the math, asks me, which leads me to ask myself: why did we wait so long to get married? The answer is one I could complicate, but that would be dishonest. Simply put, we were both scared. Though not yet Catholic, I had a Sacramental view of marriage, and understood it to be an unbreakable union, one not, as the vows say, to be entered into lightly or unadvisedly. I deferred to the wisdom of Stevie Wonder . . . “Be sure you’re sure.” I had witnessed too many divorces to remain wide-eyed or naïve. But my husband was wonderful, and I knew it. I remember receiving flowers from him, then just my boyfriend, at work one day. A co- worker remarked cutely, “Tell me again why you’re not marrying this man?” Over time, our foolishness and reluctance were defeated by our faith and friendship. Also I came to conclude through empirical observation that I had managed to find one of the very last real men on the planet.

As I pull back the lens and look at my life today, fully participating in the Catholic life, I cannot imagine marriage and motherhood yoked with anyone else. Least of all can I imagine marriage to one of the feminized men of my husband’s age and younger, tails of the dog who should be heads of the family, perfumed, plucked, and in perpetual pubescence, afraid to find themselves on the receiving end of a stiletto heel in the eye socket if they assert themselves in their relationships. One of the sadder results of this girling-down of our men is that they seem to happily march to the slaughter, elevating hobbies and pets, pornography and sports, dining out and drinking alcohol, to the level of occupations and vocations. They have a commitment to self, and expect to be lauded for individualism and open-mindedness, a “live and let live” attitude that enables them to languish in a protracted adolescence while the men forty-five and older set fix the cars, paint the houses, give up seats and hold doors, read books, and grow body hair. Read More