August 31, 2005
The Hatbox
My wedding memory box, safe and sound in Arkansas.
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"Missus, Missus, what is dis kine thing? Important? Fragiles?"...
Manu was the special packer of our fragile belongings, a huge Hawaiian man, a friend of Woody's from his car sales days, he indeared himself to me with his careful treatment of my treasures, and his plantation bred manners. His address of me as "Missus", rather than the often absence of any address prior to the question or request by local people was always deeply and honestly repectful, and filled with Aloha.
Manu was holding delicately with careful fingers a beaded, white satin hairbow with a long white veil attached. It had fallen out of its wrappings as he opened a round laqquered paper hatbox.
"Manu, that is a memorybox. You are holding my wedding veil I wore when I married Woody. I have all sorts of things in that box. My slippers that I wore, cards, letters I received and other things. That big blue book has all of my notes and samples of things in it, like a scrap book."
"Ho! no girl in my family has thing like this kine thing, stuff rots and you cant save nuttun" Manu pulled out the tissue and handed it all to me so I could wrap it all up. He stared into the box and then looked up at me and said "Nutting break in dare no way?" I smiled and said..."only my heart, it was the last perfect day of my life. I have never looked at life the same way again..." I gave him the tiny crunchy bundle, symbol of all my hopes once upon a time...
I patted his hand as he tenderly repositioned the little package "No, Manu, nothing will break in there, you can close the lid and wrap it, please dont tape it shut, tape will tear the box..."
"Yah, no worry" said the perplexed male, I think he wasnt sure if I was happy or sad about my memories.
That was a troubled day. I had just come from my beloved cliffs having just said goodbye to Aloha ke Moana or the Sea that I Love...the hat box made me confront another troubling fact...
Woody.
This move flew in the face of a promise that I had extracted from Woody prior to our marraige that we would not move from place to place as he did when he was maried before. Woody had moved his first wife 6 times during eight years of marraige, I told him that I wasnt going to be married to a moving van. Woody likes the newness of a house and the adventure of the whole thing. Yet this impermanace of place also shows itself in our relationship. We never have gotten further in our relationship than the packing and unpacking of the various things in our lives so to speak. Its somewhat superficial and satisfying only at a companionship level.
We have been married ten years in November. I have had about enough of the superficiality. Im not moving again until there is a foundational breakthrough in this relationship. Pray for us if you will.
As we were sorting through the cartons with the movers last week, a bulky bundle that was un numbered had to be opened right away to be identified. It was the hatbox. I have it out in what will be my little studio room, front and center to remind me that we need to un pack our relational baggage as well. I feel that God has brought us to a place where we can do this work. Its vital as I feel that it will be the end of us if we do not. Both people in a relationship must equally be committed and growing in it. If not one will grow away from the other. It is an ieveitable fact of life
