I said ‘I do’ and I meant it. He said ‘I do’ and he meant it. People have been taught to follow models. They still are. But what are models? A person could be a model to others. Such as a parent, a relative, a pop icon or someone from the real world. An ideal, a concept, a vision, can shape the life of a person.
Marriage is a model. Suggested by sex, requested by reproduction, defined by decree. The English call the beginning of it the honeymoon – like from the next month it should turn sour. The Germans Flitterwochen – like a week of interlude between the wedding and the stressing married life.
“Every man is born as many men and dies as a single one.” Said Martin Heidegger. Every couple comes together by ways untold and binds by trial and error.
Marriage is perhaps the greatest exercise of life, wearing out body and soul, dreams and hope, smiles and joy.
Marriage is taking sex seriously, considering the consequences and facing them, living with them, overcoming them. Not talking about kids (they are the fruits not the consequences) per se but about the more essential process of parenting, providing and learning the uneasy lessons.
Every August, we celebrate yet another year since our retro wedding in the late eighties. What a wonderful occasion for a new romantic escapade! Some Augusts, we sent the kids to summer camps so we could spend several home alone days and some other Augusts we left the kids at home to aim for the hills.
This August, we drove to Vienna. Very early in the morning. We did our best to live the romance, similar to the ways we did before the kids came.
Fancy tanned Mozarts roaming around the Opera House, handing out pamphlets about coming events of the evening. Ladies, young and mature, swarm closer and closer to the tallest of these young Mozarts. Difficult to discern how many hours has he spent under the irons of the gym – this because of the well-cut silky coats. His wig? An air of je ne sais quoi…
Next to Hofburg, in the Burggarten, the ice cream festival, with vintage (peach painted) trailers and retro vans spread on the lawn, invites you to taste the colors. The terrace in front of the Schmetterlinghaus (Imperial Butterfly House) brims with tourists, armed with selfie sticks or just looking for a free table. Food! Yes, sounds even better than ice cream.
The Volksgarten offers you some spare seats and, to our delight, an almost hidden but very cute cafe – a retreat from the buzzing crowds. Breathing the eighties, we eat a salad, an omelette, sip two Kleiner Mokkas and hold hands, under the table.
Love and sex keep the romance going. Marriage remains a model.
This is not the Opera House.