Be forewarned. This blog will disappoint. I'm just saying.
I used to keep New Year's resolutions the way you make a grocery list. I would fill it when I was hungry, and therefore made wild, unrealistic entries. I would randomly rip them off the top of my head as they came to me, excited at the possibilities of how much change I was going to wreak upon myself in the coming year.
Because of how much of a complete failure I was setting myself up to be, I stopped making lists a few years ago and instead implemented the one and done plan. One resolution. And not some supersize resolution either, to make up for the list of many. Like "Save Mankind". And not something vague that I could wriggle out of, like "Work out." Work out what? My Taxes?
I also made the decision to NOT publicize what that resolution is. Not because if I failed at it people could nag me, but because I superstitiously felt that telling others would jinx me.
So I will REFUSE to tell you what my New Year's 2009 resolution is, but I will gladly share with you my 2008 resolution.
To marry Corrine.
Okay. I can already hear the grumbling dissatisfaction in some of your heads, the ones who know me. You are saying "Well, that was a toughy. You had been living with her for two years and had two children together. Please."
Well, the truth is, there was a sub clause to my resolution. A sub-rez if you will. A dependent clause. One that finished the sentence with an ellipses, thusly:
To Marry Corrine...Because It Feels Good, Not Because Others Want Me to.
Basically, I wanted it straight in my head that I was marrying her out of no obligation other than for love. As Hallmark Card as that sounds, it's the truth. I had her already. I enjoyed a fulfilling happiness, a deep friendship and passionate connectedness. We had a house. We had two children together and each brought two more into the family to make it a cozy 8. We had a couple of pets.
We also had all the headaches every couple have. Mortgage and fuel and groceries and no money ever. We had tension. We had highs and lows in the same day. Hell, in the same minute.
Marriage was not going to change anything is my point. Not a thing, except legal status. Corrine would have the dubious honor of absorbing my debts and take my last name. Lucky lass!
So, to resolve to marry Corrine in 2008, it had to come with the supplemental tidbit that I would marry her purely and absolutely because it felt really good to do.
We got married in a Legion Hall down the street. She wore a dress designed by my niece. I wore a long-sleeved shirt and dress pants. We had hay bales and straw scarecrows and Christmas lights strung. (we had planned to do it outside at our house, but Mother Nature intervened.)
We had a justice of the peace. We had no processional music. We walked with all of our children to a stage, got it done, and then ate with our friends and family.
The beauty of it was in its simplicity and how it reflected who we are. It was what we wanted.
It felt right. It felt good to do.
Resolution made and kept.