A Promise Not Kept
This entry was posted on 1/31/2009 7:03 AM and is filed under Personally Speaking.
Newspaper wedding announcements draw my eye, especially those that tell a romantic tale of how the loving relationship evolved to commitment. I don’t even read them with a cynical eye, despite my work with those whose bonds are unraveling. But I do wonder if clergy in charge of modern rituals, or the wedding partners themselves, exact the “until death do us part” promise from each other, as in days gone by?
Isn’t it fair to say that every promise we make to another is conditioned on underlying, often unspoken, assumptions? Even marriage vows. And if the life experiences of each party evoke different undisclosed, perhaps even unrecognized, assumptions, then what? These questions came to mind after a recent conversation with mediation clients, and it sparked this old memory:
As a young child, I often woke on Sunday mornings to a silent house, my older brothers still asleep. I'd leave my bed and wander to the door of my parent's room where I would settle down on the floor, waiting until I sensed the time was right to knock and join them under the covers. Sitting there, I listened to their murmurings. Although unable to detect recognizable words, I could discern the voice of one and then the other, and I imagined them close to each other, warm and cozy. Talking things over.
Many years later, I married a man of Norwegian heritage, in whose childhood home talk was sparse. He grew up well accustomed to silence. Hardly any wonder that the early years of our marriage brought disappointment for me in the talking realm. Yet now, one of my fondest memories is our Sunday mornings, as they evolved over time (with some help from the "talking cure"). Both early risers, once our oldest was in his teens, we left the kids asleep in his charge, and shared a nearby cozy restaurant nook for a leisurely breakfast. We talked of the week past and that ahead, or any worry either of us needed to air. Not always happy talk, I suppose, but now the memory is golden.
Back to the divorcing pair: the husband was adamant that vows spoken when they married bound them to soldier on and maintain the marriage. Neither had been unfaithful. There were no violent arguments. They lived now as if brother and sister, with a pervasive polite coolness. After a year of counseling, sometimes together, sometimes alone, the wife reached an opposite conclusion.
For complex reasons unique to each couple contemplating this tortuous decision, the underlying assumptions of their marital promises, love, passion, understanding and acceptance, sometimes are realized, sometimes not. This wife had carefully considered her response to her husband's determination to maintain the status quo, however barren. She said: Is it really the loving thing to do? In terms of others, even if not myself, would I be doing a good thing to stay in the marriage? Does it help or hurt us, or our children? I don’t want us to model for them that this is what a marriage should be. We may or may not find new loving relationships, but they will know that it is something that both of their parents deserve.
Often what we witness in our homes as children is what we come to expect, or consciously decide to reject, in our adult lives. Some who grow up with violence, or plagued by persistent parental disapproval, successfully struggle to avoid replicating this for their own families. Yet, many times the cycle of abuse is perpetuated.
What of a determination to perpetuate a cycle of love?