I waited a long time to find the right person to marry. Or rather, to be found by the right person to marry. I wasn’t terribly active in the business myself. I developed a concrete image of the man I would agree to marry when I was in my late teens (mostly a list not-s), and decided if that sort never appeared, I’d just skip the whole business.
I suppose I may have overdone it slightly. I didn’t intend to accept the first (or the only) person who might show some interest, or the person who might make my head spin, and bring up images of sunsets and moonrises, or the person who would fit everyone’s opinion of the proper sort. Which probably made me a rather hard mark. Not to mention I had a pathological fear of flirting or pretending to flirt- I’ve always thought flirting was dishonest and unfair, and only led to problems when you gave false hope. I was one of the coldest fish around- practically arctic.
And the closer I got to 30, the more I realized the longer you wait, the thinner the fields, and the more formidable you become. And while I may have started my 20s with an indifferent attitude- “To marry or not to marry, is hardly the question”- I was finishing them understanding that we really were created to be in fellowship with someone– and a cat doesn’t cut it. In order to have a worthwhile life, you have to be able to give up your life to someone.
However, this did not shake my resolve to forget the whole thing if nobody worthy ever came around. Not that I think myself such a prize, only a knight in armour would do; but if one is going to be married, and spend the rest of one’s life with someone else, it had better be someone one can put up with for 50 years.
I refused Maksim right off the bat; and changed my mind just as quickly. And by the merest happenstance and tremendous serendipity, ended up with the ideal husband.
No, he’s not rich. Or titled. Or significant in the world in any way. He’s not the professional man I had always expected to marry. He doesn’t share my tastes in reading, or even enjoy reading as a pasttime. He’s not an antiquarian, and he’s not very fond of cats.
But he has a sense of humour, and life would be impossible with someone who didn’t. And not only that, but he can laugh at himself. And he doesn’t take life too seriously. He’s humble, and that’s about as rare as anyone can get.
He’s patient. Well, as patient as a man can be anyway; patience isn’t really a masculine trait. He may lose his patience with creeping trains and crawling traffic, but he’s patient with my flaws and foibles and multiple disfunctions, and the dishes being left in the sink in the last months of my pregnancy.
He doesn’t hold a grudge. Forgiving. Doesn’t bring up the whole list of my failures from the beginning of our marriage to date every time I slip up.
He’s giving; even when we’re in the midst of economizing he can suggest giving money to someone who needs it. And he’s ready to help the minute a friend asks; sometimes this isn’t always the most convenient characteristic for me, but I value his generosity of spirit more than eating supper while it’s hot (most of the time).
He’s easy to get along with- except when we’re both being easy to get along with, and can’t decide who’s going to compromise for whom. Generally he wins, and I eat the bigger slice of cake, unless I can think of a way around when he pulls rank.
He loves his children. Which I guess most men do, but not all of them are capable of showing it. I don’t think Maksim’s children will ever have a reason to doubt it! And he enjoys them, which also isn’t often as easy for men as women…
He takes care of me. This might sound rather lame when I’ve crossed half the world by myself, and managed perfectly well- but I’m tired. And I’m very glad to have someone to support me, to stand behind me when the ramrod in my back is warping, to speak for me when that stiff upper lip is wobbling. Or just to share the concern.
And he loves me. Very much. Which I really never expected. As I said, I did have a rather amphibious nature; and I’ve always known I didn’t have the kind of character that really attracts many men. I had always expected to have a civilized, polite, quiet marriage- a British marriage. We are civilized and polite, but Maksim loves me in spite of it- to my unending surprise and delight.
I am constantly amazed by Maksim, and by how happy we are. I never expected this much. I wanted to be married to be able give- but I get so much more. I dread the day when I will forget to be grateful, when I become too lazy to appreciate everything that Maksim is to me. I hope that if I work and pray hard it will never come; but in the meantime I enjoy every serendipitous day and thank God for the man who hooked the fish out of the stream.