Marriage With Options

I recently celebrated my twenty-eighth wedding anniversary. Twenty-eight years is a long time, though not necessarily as long as "till death do us part." That was how long I promised to honor my wedding vows, both times.

My first marriage lasted seven years. I married a wonderful woman with whom I wanted to share the rest of my life. I couldn’t imagine anything that might come between us and cause us to break our wedding vows. Well, maybe a few things. But they were really terrible, unforgivable things and I made it very clear right at the beginning that, despite any vows to the contrary, if any of those things were to occur then our marriage was over.

My second marriage was to another wonderful woman with whom I wanted to share the rest of my life. The experience of my first marriage made me more cautious the second time. So, I did not tell this woman that there were some things that, were they to occur, could destroy our marriage. I still considered them terrible things and could not imagine myself forgiving them. I just didn’t tell her what those thing were or what might happen if they occurred.

So, why has the second marriage lasted twenty-eight years while the first one only seven? Perhaps because I drew no lines in the sand.

True, marriage is the union of two souls in the eyes of God and a declaration of unwavering love before family and friends. But, equally important, it is a contract. The vows are spoken in a public ceremony, scripted decades earlier by unknown hands and recited formally between organ renditions. The contract is crafted in the months preceding the ceremony, negotiated at soft-spoken meetings where dreams and fears and hopes and wishes are expressed between lovers.

During my first pre-nuptial negotiation I inserted a non-negotiable termination clause, do any of these things and it is over. I had drawn lines in the sand, warning my partner that to cross them was unforgivable. Imagine my dilemma when she came to me years later asking forgiveness for having crossed a line.

I had painted myself into a corner, trapping myself between walls of animal rage and male pride. In my youthful ignorance I searched in vain for a solution that would save the relationship while erasing the feelings of shame and embarrassment that fueled my growing anger. To forgive might have been the only true solution but I had eliminated that as an option years earlier.

I drew no lines this time. There still are frightening things that might threaten my marriage. But if any of them were to occur I have options to exercise. First among them is to forgive.