The bling on my finger was no match for the sparkle in my soul. Capturing every ray of light, it breathed life into my dream. We had officially begun our journey, and I couldn’t wait. We were going to have the most perfect of weddings… on a budget. But there was so much to organise, and decide, and consider. The guest list literally made me ill. You were amazing though and let me make all the decisions. You said blokes were more invested in the engagement—the intent. The wedding was the girl’s gig, and I could knock myself out… on a budget.
So, Google reckoned at this point we should have exchanged tin or aluminium. But since I was still waiting for cotton, leather, flowers, wood, pottery and or willow, I wasn’t holding my breath. And yes, you were right, you had given me a lot over the past ten years: four pregnancies, two children, a dog, countless goldfish, grey hair… and a savage dose of reality. These were just some of the sleepers holding our rail lines on parallel and permanently divided tracks. It was a miracle we weren’t “gifting” each other paper headed D.I.V.O.R.C.E. But connecting as passing ships in the night was just too hard.
Our years had been devoured by a black hole. How could our babies possibly have time-travelled overnight to high-school students? Independent human beings who not only didn’t need us anymore—apart from the wifi password, a bottomless pantry and lifts to the gym or worse, the car keys—they had devolved to communicating with one-lettered texts and grunts. Their undocking launched us into each other’s orbit as we deliberated how these two “bulls in a china shop” had formed from the DNA of two highly intelligent, capable human beings.
We were now officially empty-nesters. That was after being empty nesters the first time before we were home base for broke Uni students. Then empty-nesters the second time—for a heartbeat—before being nests for our offspring and their partners. Then empty-nesters for the final time with barred doors. Then it was just you and me and we could no longer hide from the truth clanging within our hollow shell. Once upon a time you’d had “intent” and I’d vowed “till death”. Now we were, at best, investigating for signs of life.
I look at you and try to remember you’re not the enemy. That person you demonstrated during the hard years was merely you—doing the best you could, where you were at, with what you had. Later, you were left trying to find your place in a reconstructed world. You are a mirror to my reality. Grandparent duty and family support had enabled procrastination and prolonged the decision. But it was time to bite the bullet. For the first time in decades, your office-softened hand encased my gnarled callouses as we closed ranks and leapt. Maybe for the first time we were on the same track heading in the same direction at the same time. Our journey was about to begin, and I couldn’t wait.
