On the 27th, rather. In any event, I am now Mrs. Ram.
Ram was able to get the leave he had been chasing after, and was able to visit for the holiday. It was a close call, and the local courts were less than cooperative with us, but thanks to the unmatched magnanimity of my town’s mayor, a former Marine whose office had since discontinued performing marriages due to a reduction in pay and working hours, we managed to be wed. He refused the honorarium we intended to give him, which we felt bad about, but sent him a long-winded, gushing “thank you” card instead.
The two days preceding the day of our marriage were riddled with good omens, as Ram and I perceived them, and deserving of thanks. It was not limited to our luck with the mayor’s office — we ran into an old woman at my doctor’s office on the day after Christmas who had been married to her Marine for 65 years. By the way Ram held the door for her, she could tell he was a Marine. Her husband had passed, and she had so much sadness about her at recalling his loss, but they were by all appearances good years. Ram and I took it as a good portent, that he and I would have long, happy years together. I only hope that neither of us shall have to outlive each other in loneliness and sadness, and I sincerely wish that woman finds peace, and will be reunited with her husband somewhere, somehow.
It was a small, private civil ceremony. My parents and maternal uncle were in attendance. Ram’s family is distant in more than one sense of the word, so they were not able to attend. Perhaps, once Ram and I are settled, likely by the time he’s out of the USMC, we’ll hold a religious ceremony, and send out formal invitations and do things a bit more fancily. Although, in all honesty, I’m neither here nor there on it. We’re married. Poor and mind-blown, but married and happy. And, miracle of miracles, my family loves Ram and accepts him as part of the family already. I could care less about a ceremony.
As vehement as I sometimes am about formalities, the vows Ram and I made to one-another are the only oaths of true importance — and our actions toward one-another far more important than any verbal promises we make. Egyptian religion calls for no vows made to the Gods regarding mortal marriage (the priestly status of “God’s Wife of Amun” was perhaps a different story, but “actual” marriages were a civil affair, not a religious one), and while Norse religion places immense importance on vows, swearing to the Gods over marriage is arguably not wholly necessary. Why emphasize promises to Gods regarding “being good in marriage” over promises made to one’s spouse? Unless one is marrying God, one ought not to swear to make God happy regarding that marriage, for fear of incurring God’s wrath in the event of behaving badly toward one’s spouse. The notarized legal documents and our love for, and behaviour toward, one-another are what matter to us most in the immediate and mundane world.
At any rate, Ram and I have already spoken to the Gods of our understanding at length regarding our love and devotion to one-another. We both thanked Freyr, and Heru-Wer and Hathor for our unusually good fortune on the day of our marriage, the days preceding it, and all the days that might follow. We gave Them the first slice of our little wedding cake as a sign of our gratitude. Ram is strictly Asatru, for all intents and purposes, and it warmed me to see him join me in addressing Heru-Wer and Hathor despite not being Kemetic in any way apart from me. I knew I married the right man. A very kind, curious, and tolerant one.
And apparently Set heard my prayers. Ram was only given ten days of leave — a rather short honeymoon, though I am grateful we were granted any time together at all before his deployment — and while walking past the home shrine the day before Ram had to make his departure, I said to Set in-passing, “please, let there be a blizzard, so my husband won’t have to leave!” And lo, there was nasty winter weather that canceled his connection flight further South, and airline incompetence that kicked him off his first flight anyway. I’ll make the generous assumption that these coincidences are a sign of “Father’s” approval and beneficence, though I will still be sad and reluctant as ever to see him return to the Marine Corps’ possession. Ram will have to leave Wednesday evening, and hopefully his flight will be entirely safe and uneventful.
Leave has been awesome in spite of some of the circumstances, and there’s far too much to be relayed here, but this has been the best 11 days of my life thus far, inasmuch as I perceive it. It is good to be happy and in love, and to feel deserving of happiness and love.
It is late, and my husband is asleep. I should join him.