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Recent News... Just for Pope Gregory... |
2002-03-29 - 11:28 p.m. Thank you for the kitchen table I had thought I would write about Burl Ives and sake and electronics and a wooly mammoth. But TC changed my mind. For the past three years, I have started my workday listening to TC come whistling down the hall towards the office next to mine. He's a crusty old technican, a man both sweet and wise, and one of the bright spots of my work environment. No matter how crazy work is, his priority is always the people around him. He has the coffee pot going by 6 am daily, and he's already eyeing the division grill in preparation for the first BBQ of spring. He's having a really rough time right now. As the result of a car accident, his wife of forty plus years has been in a coma since January 10th. His mother died two weeks after the wreck. But he hasn't been able to mourn because he's been struggling to care for his wife through the hell and distraction of hospital bills, dwindling insurance and irresponsible doctors. But he's going to make it. I know he's going to make it because he has an unshakeable commitment to his wife. He knows that she would do no less for him. He knows his beloved wife will come back to him or die trying. Spring is a time of renewal, and Easter is a time of miracles. I pray for TC and his wife. And I am thankful for TC, for he teaches me about the courage of commitment and the joy of marriage. I caught an old episode of Mad About You today, the one where Paul & Jamie get married. The madness of family and party and wedding arrangements spun out of control until they finally snuck off and got married in the middle of the night so their marriage could be all about them, and the wedding could be a party with their families. For our wedding, my grandfather gave us money to buy real furniture. He was insistent we have a foundation for starting our lives together. To stretch the money, we bought an unfinished table and chairs. Part of our first week of our marriage was spent staining the table. We installed it in the breakfast nook. The first real meal in our new home was eaten at the table my grandfather provided; our first budget worked out around that same table. Almost eight years later, it has a few nicks and scratches, but it's still a central part of daily life, a repository of mail, dinner, presents and packages. My grandfather was wiser than I knew. Robert Fulghum, writer, philosopher, Unitarian minister once wrote: "The real wedding and the real vows don't happen on the day of the formal social occasion. "There comes a time, usually some days after the proposal and acceptance, after the announcement and setting of the date and all the rest, when there is a conversation between two people in love, when they are in earnest about what they've agreed to do. The conversation happens over several days - even weeks. Partly in a car driving somewhere, partly at the kitchen table after supper, partly on the living room floor, or maybe on the way home after a movie. "It's a conversation about promises, homes, family, children, possessions, jobs, dreams, rights, concessions, money, personal space, and all the problems that might arise from all those things. And what is promised at that time, in a disorganized, higgledy-piddledy way, is the making of a covenant. A covenant - an invisible bond of commitment. Just two people working out what they want, what they believe, what they hope for each other. "They ask each other if they really mean it, and they do. Then they seal it with a whole lot more kissing and hugging than you'll see in public. And that's it. The wedding is done. All that's left to do is the public celebration however they choose to do it. "Couples [should] pay ... attention to what's going on in that talking time before the Big Day. They wouldn't want to miss their own wedding." Roland, thank you. Thank you for agreeing to sit around the kitchen table with me for the rest of our lives. You are my joy, my strength and my heart. � � � 
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