On the morning of January 30, 2010, Jordan asked me if I had forgotten anything? I didn’t think so. “Well wasn’t yesterday your anniversary?”
“OMG!” I said, (because I’m very today otherwise I would have said Oh my God). And we both started to laugh. I could not believe that, after all these years, I just didn’t remember. Then she called David and said, “Hey Dad, I know something you don’t know.” Children always know something their parents don’t know, so he was not surprised until she said, “Yesterday was your anniversary.” He had the same reaction that I did. He just laughed.
Is this the good news or the bad. After 31 years together, 26 of them as a married couple, forgetting the date that you wed is unexpected. Or as Don Rickles used to say, ‘We’ve been happily married for twenty years, of course we just celebrated our golden anniversary.’ (But he said it funnier) To answer the question, good news or bad, who knows. At least we both forgot, so there were no hard feelings. But you have to ask yourself the question “why”?
Are we so busy that we don’t have time to think about one another? Is the day we got married not worth remembering. Have we been married so long that it has become just another ordinary day. Or, are we so old that we can’t remember anything? I’m not sure that any of these are the reason we forgot. It could be that we are so much in love that everyday is equally important and meaningful. I’m going with the last one.
As with most couples who have been together for years, the people you are were are not necessarily the people who you have become. And when you have been together for a long time (and it’s still terrific) you have to find ways to celebrate that, more than one day a year. Does that make any sense to you?
Whew, that was a little too close to serious for my taste. So, why am I thinking about this? Yesterday we got a “Gefilte Fish Chronicles” www.gefiltefishchronicles.com, order (1 DVD… 1 Cookbook) from Hyman Krantz. Rabbi Krantz officiated at our wedding. He was the first Rabbi at the Boonton Jewish Center, among which my family were founding members. I adored him because he taught us how to sing the Sabbath Service…. Which I can still do. And, even more importantly, because we were not easy kids and unlike so many other Rabbi’s he maintained a wonderful sense of humor about us and himself. Twenty six years ago, when we decided to make the relationship permanent, my mother wanted us to married by a Rabbi. It wasn’t important to me because Rabbi Krantz was the only one I would even consider. And, after 30 years, no one knew where he was living. But leave it to my mother: she found him, flew him to New Jersey, and reintroduced him to my wacky family on, as he said, “this auspicious occasion.”
Of course, once I had the DVD order and their telephone number, I called to say hello. We had a lovely reunion. They sounded exactly the same. In my mind, neither the Rabbi or Roz, his wife, have ever changed. They will always remain young, vital and forever attractive. They said that someone who knew they had lived in Boonton, told them they had seen “The Chronicles.” They wanted a copy so they could share sweet memories and to show at a cousins reunion over next weekend.
Sweet memories. We got married at my parent’s home. My dad was ill and we thought we would have the ceremony in their bedroom. Just immediate family. That was never going to happen. My mother moved all the furniture out of the house and put it on a truck in the driveway. She invited the whole family because there is never just “immediate.” My dad got out of bed, where he had been for two months. Our friends came from all over the country. We had a big cocktail party in New York following a fabulous breakfast buffet in New Jersey. We had a honeymoon suite at the Regency. And as a special wedding gift, had a big fat New York City parking ticket on the car because Matthew, who did us the favor of dropping us at the party, then parked it in a bus zone. We had one day together and David left for Jamaica.
Our life together has never changed. Always surrounded by beloved family and friends. Always independent but attached. And always laughs, no matter what we forget – or remember. We’re just sayin’….Iris