I
n ten years of marriage, I’ve never
lied to my wife like this. These
past few months have been a veil
of mistruths, deception and furtive
communication with other women.
Yes other women. One of whom I met on
the internet.
You see, in a few weeks time we will be
renewing our vows. Only she doesn’t know
it yet. The scene will be a local park at dusk
with only a dozen family and friends on
hand plus a celebrant — she of the internet
chat — and a singer. After which, we will all
decamp to a nearby restaurant for a
celebratory dinner.
Nothing too flash. Nothing too formal.
But there is a degree of secrecy and
subterfuge involved that would make your
average Cold War spy scandal look benign.
Keeping things on the QT is a
nightmare. Especially when you have
in-laws whose enthusiasm for the gig runs
rampant over the need for discretion. It’s
like I have married into the Assange family
as I have to leap for the phone or tablet
every time they ping to ensure Bryan and
Mary haven’t decided ‘to check in to see
how the event we can’t talk to Jennie about
here and vow
is shaping up’. That said, I love that they
are terrible liars who stiffened
uncomfortably when the subject of our
anniversary came up in conversation the
other day and I had to resort to creating a
new gmail account for all correspondence.
This all came about when I was looking
for a suitable anniversary gift. For a
number of years, we followed the
traditional present formula — first year is
paper, second china, third crystal and soAll of which brought me back to the
notion of what is precious in a marriage.
That and the fact that, as I get older, I
seem to be turning into my dad when it
comes to spending more than $19.95.
I don’t want to be mawkish or
sentimental and nor do I wish to undermine
our original vows in any way. However,
when we made all those public promises to
each other a decade ago I for one had no
clue what living up to them entailed.
This is what I vowed: ‘I pledge to share
my life openly with you, to speak the truth to
you in love.’ Let’s ignore the fact that in
planning to renew our vows, I’ve broken both
of these promises. Then there was ‘I promise
to honour and tenderly care for you, to
cherish and encourage your own fulfilment
as an individual for the rest of my life.’
Bearing in mind that we said ‘I do’ in the
year that Chicago cleaned up at the
Oscars, it’s clear that I now know the
practical realities of actually walking the
vow walk as opposed to talking the vow
talk. A small number these include just
shutting up and letting her finish, never
going to sleep on an argument and just
shutting up and her letting her finish.
Which is why I want to do it all again. It’s
not that I didn’t mean it a decade back. Of
course I did. It’s just that there is now a
greater understanding of what ‘encouraging
your fulfilment as an individual’ entails. And
with that knowledge, I want to proclaim —
in front of those who matter most — that I
am more keen than ever to follow through.
Although those words themselves will
probably not figure in the ceremony itself.
Ditto ‘bring it on’ and ‘you’re still my
smokin’ hot love bunny.’
What there will be on this day are
gardenias, champagne, family, friends,
cake, a still-smitten groom and a hopefully
utterly surprised bride. If I can just keep my
in-laws to maintain radio silence. I’ll let you
know how it goes.
PS. Should you want to wish us well
after the nuptials 2.0, feel free to drop us a
line at [email protected]As he nears his 10 year wedding anniversary, David Smiedt ponders how he lived
up to the vows he made a decade ago and what being a good husband is all about
‘I now know the
practical realities
of actually walking
the vow walk as
opposed to talking
the vow talk.’
on. Do you know what number 10 is? Tin
or aluminium. ‘Here, darling, I got you a
commemorative Tim Tam box. Thanks for
the last decade.’ I think not. The modern
alternative is apparently
diamonds. Note the plural.
Now, as a husband, I’m not
opposed to a bit of bling. Problem
is, in the early years of the
relationship, I went out a bit too
hard on the old carat score.
Rookie error. There were more
rings, earrings, pendants and
bracelets than she had fingers,
necks and wrists. A rotation
policy is now in place and she
has made it clear that she is
perfectly satisfied with what’s in
her jewellery box. If I do choose
to disregard her wishes — never
a wise move in a marriage
— the only way is up with a
stone that costs the same as a
small hatchback. Towing a
jet-ski.322 | bridetobe.com.auWORDS: DAVID SMIEDTGROOM WITH A VIEW