Mea

For 57 years we kept silent about the incident until an evening shortly before the ferry was close, and I knew my beloved must soon board.

We could have been handled it differently, but instinctively, we knew we had a choice.

And instantly understood any acknowledgment of the incident had the potential to destroy a precious moment unless it was ignored.

So he and I never spoke about it until two weeks before death did us part.

Our wedding was quick and quiet because my young bridegroom was scheduled to report for an assignment in a distant state. That was the primary reason, but also hidden underneath our plans was the brutal truth, his Mother’s opposition.

Several months earlier I had been warned about the pending problem; first by my Dad and then by a good female friend. Both wondered if I could cope with the potential and obvious danger my lover’s Mother and the family matriarch presented to the obvious love her son and I shared.

My future Mother in Law’s disdain had been apparent from the moment we met when she refused to accept my handshake and ignored an introduction at his college graduation ceremony,

I respected both my Dad and Dorothy’s concern and unease about my future, but I trusted love would insulate us from her obvious control and manipulation.

As the time grew closer to the ceremony, the signals grew louder. An adamant decision to wear black to the quiet ceremony, and refusal to share any joy left no illusions about her utter despair over our forthcoming marriage,

Yet I doubt if anyone was prepared for the outburst of keening that filled the small chapel in St. Paul the Apostle rectory when her son spoke his vows. Her continued loud lamentation continued throughout his spoken commitment to love, honor and cherish me ended.

Then without anyone in the congregation giving recognition to her final attempt to prevent our marriage, the howling ended.

Leaving the small altar I refused to acknowledge the incident and never complained to her about it.

It was 57 years later when her son and I were saying our last goodbyes both knowing she had been wrong and love had triumphed, that we remembered and I believed I had finally been able to forgive.

Now I am aware that the length of time it took me to address the issue had been a barrier to any true forgiveness and perhaps a very young bride’s subtle revenge and I deeply regret that.