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Rated: 13+ · Essay · Personal · #1255041
A marriage is held together by many things...
                                               

Shrieks of laughter encircled me as I held up the barely-there teddy.  It was black and tiny and made of the sheerest netting I had ever seen.  My hands trembled and my face flushed red-hot.  I wished I could be anywhere; anywhere but there.

I couldn’t be anywhere else, though.  This was my bridal shower.  These were my gifts.  I had to open them all, even with my mom and my oh-so-proper future mother-in-law sitting just a few feet away.  I couldn’t imagine being any more embarrassed than I was right then, at that very moment.  And then I opened one more and knew that, yes, I could be more embarrassed.  A jumbo size container of Vaseline?  Okay, which one of my friends gave me this?!?

A few more gut-wrenching presents later, I noticed a lovely little box unearthed on the table next to me.  Shaped like a tiny English cottage and constructed from painted cardboard, it immediately caught my eye.  All hollyhocks and thatched roof charming.  The windows glowed a welcoming yellow and my heart yearned to climb inside.  I had always been fascinated with all things cottage, so I instantly knew who had given me this unusual box.

I picked up the already cherished object and gingerly lifted the roof to reveal its hidden contents.  Nestled in layers of white tissue paper were a few little things for my future home; a miniature book of quotes about the love between daughters and mothers, a set of measuring spoons and three small rectangle tins.  Cinnamon, Clove, and Apple Pie Spice.  The note tucked inside simply read, “To my darling daughter.  Love, Mom”.

I turned to look at her then, both of us blinking back the tears.  To most people the trinkets inside my little cottage wouldn’t seem like much, but I knew the value of what she had given.  My mom had never had much money and so I had never really received big presents.  It was not that she didn’t want to give them, just that there was never much money to spare.  To me the thoughtful love that went into whatever she gave always transformed her gifts into priceless treasures, though.  That fact was never truer than at that very moment.  I mouthed an I love you and gave her my brightest smile.

With dread, I reached for another wrapped embarrassment and slowly inched my way through that long, long evening… 

Almost seventeen years have passed since my bridal shower.  My husband and I have survived things that most all other couples endure.  We have made it through the small tiffs, the big blow-outs, the screams of frustration, the rivers of tears.  We literally grew up together, we sometimes even thought we hated each other, but mostly we have loved. 

After all these years, I look back on the gifts given to me that night and I realize that the present that held our marriage together when all seemed lost was one of the things inside that tiny cottage box.  Lingerie is nice and adds flavor to our marriage now and then, but when it comes right down to whether we will stay together or not, we stay because of the apple pie spice.

The apple pie spice part of our marriage is what keeps us holding on when the teddies don’t seem to matter as much anymore.  Our friendship, like apple pie spice, isn’t mind-blowingly exciting.  It isn’t flash-fire hot like chili powder or skimpy panties can be.  It’s comforting and loving.  Cayenne is thrilling on occasion, but not possible to consume all the time. 

The everyday simplicity of our friendship is what binds us together and turns our relationship into something magical.  Just like the contents of the tin my mom gave turned plain apples, sugar and pastry into warm and soothing pie.

Those spices from Mom were long ago used up and the tins have since been thrown away.  I don’t even have that little cottage box anymore.  Eventually it disintegrated from age and I had to sadly let it go.  I do still have the little book about mothers and daughters and somewhere in my kitchen are those old measuring spoons.  There is one more thing that still exists that I treasure most from back then.  It hasn’t faded or been tattered, but is stronger now than when we first began. 

Our marriage. 

My husband and I still hold hands and talk and laugh and yes, we occasionally argue, too.  But we survive, today, because of what I now call our apple pie spice.  I often wonder why my mom chose those gifts for me so long ago.  Was she trying to let me know it would be the sweet and simple things in life that would see our marriage through?




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