The Story

"If at first you don't succeed...  skydiving is not your sport."~ Unknown

Once upon a time in a not-so-far away place…

“Ugh!  [long sigh.] Insurance companies suck.”  I dramatically rolled my eyes, dragging out the last word for emphasis, aware of the glaring statement.  It was a complicated mistake on their part.  Naturally, they decided otherwise.  Logic and English-speaking operators were nonexistent.  And although it was only a mere $20 mistake billed to the wrong person- they deemed it near impossible to fix.  


Perhaps it was a bit confusing- what with us having the same last name and all.  But not married [anymore].  Not related- but together.  So I gave them the benefit of the doubt and forgave the misunderstanding.

“We should just get married already.”  I threw it out there.  Half joking.  Somewhat serious.  Mostly oblivious, as I was already on to deciding what I was craving for lunch.  I already knew his feelings on the whole marriage topic.  Why ruin a good thing?  It didn't work the first time.  We were in a good place now- having divorced and somehow ended up back together some two years later.

“Alright, let’s do it then,” was not the reply I was expecting.  “What do you want to eat for lunch?”  He continued, not missing a beat.

I froze.  I felt like a Labrador Retriever and he had just fake-threw me a bone, while I searched and searched for it frantically in the tall weeds.  All the while it rested in his palm behind his back.  I couldn't read him this time.  Was he joking?  Because if he was, it was mean.  I would sound all venerable and girly with any response I could have blurted out in that moment.  So I refrained. 

“Ha, ha,” was all I managed to squeak out.  It was more of a question than a laugh.

He was serious. 

And so, on a sunny Monday afternoon, we drove off to the court house to request a marriage license.  They were slightly concerned initially because as stated before, we had the same last name.  Apparently that tends to happen ‘round these parts from time-to-time.  She began to explain it was only legal if we were at least second cousins.

"No, no-" we interjected in unison.  "It’s a RE-marriage." 

"Ohhhh.  Yes, that is better," the courthouse clerk said, clearly relieved of avoiding an awkward situation.  "Okay, just sign here."

And so, three days later- three because there is a two-day waiting period, and he had a golf tournament on Wednesday (priorities), we were married on a Thursday.  Again.  But just the two of us this time, as we decided not to tell a soul until after.  Perhaps they’d think we were daft.  I mean, how many people get married twice- to the same person??  A handful, I suppose.  Did they ever work?  Dr. Phil said rarely.

So the odds weren't exactly in our favor.  But we just didn't quite believe it.  This time, we really did know what it's like to be on both sides of the fence- and we still chose to be together.  We were older.  We were already committed to each other.  Marriage wasn’t going to change that.

But yet, the funny thing, it actually kind of did.  Somehow it made the commitment even stronger.  

On the clerk's window, there was a comic strip with two people standing in front of a priest.  The bride is saying to her husband-to-be, “The correct response is ‘I do,’ not ‘I’ll give it a shot.’"

And so, on that day, we too decided to give it a shot.  Forever.