A Marriage That Wears Like a Leather Jacket

Have you seen the institution of marriage lately?
...a little run down to say the least.
Couple-by-couple, down the tubes it goes.
Against the rocky shores it's beaten, a notarized piece of paper in a hurricane.
I've seen children drown, women suffocate and men swell up and burst.

And heard, "They served her divorce papers at the public school.
She stayed in the teacher's lounge til 9 o'clock that night." or
"He drove from Maryland to Macon, Georgia
and then he paced in front of her window until the police came,
begging her to not take the kids." or
"She is the product of a broken home
and she lashes out at her high school friends
in ways the school counselor has 'seen so many times before'". or
"He is the young man who cut up a pair of sneakers in the driveway of his father's house
and walked away barefooted."

It's a Sunday ritual for the preacher to cry
and plead for husbands and wives to stop the insanity,
"If not for your sake at least for the children", he'll beg.
And after the service they all have places to be
far enough apart that if you watch the parking lot
you see Smith1 head south, Smith2 west, Smith3 east and Smith4 north.
The only civil words they speak during the week are on a cell phone.

But let's say one of the kids has a bout with leukemia
or a tumor the size of a grapefruit behind his eyes,
then watch the group pull back together.
No one complains about the lumpy mashed potatoes.
No accusations of favoritism.
Mom gives dad a smile and a peck on the cheek
as she comes through and catches him
where just weeks ago "he sat propped up in front of an old ballgame".
Suddenly, it's okay if sis wants to wear your shirt instead of the thousands she owns.

Or let's say mom wrecks the Beemer
over in front of the Mall with Christmas presents strewn all over the intersection
and the jaws of life used
and she is three days in intensive care
and in front of the mirror you cuss yourself
and fan the tears and promise
to never be the cause of another night of worry for her,
...if God will see fit to bring her home.
And you don't forget, for months, years,
nothing is the same since that night the
blue and red lights swirled around the most precious head you know.
(Some marriages are like that mother, trapped in the vehicle,
losing a pint of blood, losing the baby.)
But what do we make of the man who forsaking all others clings only unto one.
Or she who honors and respects him forever.
Perhaps because of the BAD TIMES
they find a way to keep it together through the GOOD TIMES!!
What are these bonds sealed with?
Is it that TV glue where people hang in hardhats
from steel beams high in the air?
Is it a smooth-beaded weld?
Or staying on the subject of TV,
are these the Energizer Bunny marriages?

In these homes, meals are taken together.
Values passed around with the rolls.
Everyone drinks from glasses full of respect.
Respect for emotional attachment, for obligations beyond personal needs,
for unconditional positive regard.

I know of a marriage that wears like a leather jacket.
Lines and cracks are grace and style.
As the years go by, it gets softer, suppler
it's the first choice out of the closet.
You wish the whole world dressed in cowhide.
It stretches with you, it breathes.

From a tiny town in Eastern Kentucky, to tiny bluegrass apartments,
from Winchester Rd, to Olympia Drive, to Walden Drive.
You are there, now. Together with God's precious gifts.
For me, even as close as a brother, it all runs together.
But I know for you the memories are clear
...a montage of hair, chemicals, Dylan, carpet, aerobics, diets, orange Dodge Vans,
dancing hearts, a little blond girl, a young man in a baseball suit,
the sister I love and the man who dreamed it all up.