Happily ever after is make-believe - even for a prince and princess
/The Boston Herald
Beverly Beckham
You read the statistics and look around and count the number of couples who are no longer couples, who live miles apart or in the same house, who pledged to love one another but are now indifferent strangers, and you know there is no happily ever after.
But you believe in it anyway. A lifetime of love songs and fairy tales can't be undone by other people's unhappy lives.
"It'll be different for us." That's what every bride tells herself as she walks down the aisle. "Our marriage will always be loving and romantic and ideal."
But it never is. Not even the best marriages can live up to "always."
That's what the dissolution of Prince Charles and Princess Diana's marriage proves.
If this union, which the former archbishop of Canterbury once called "the stuff of which fairy tales are made" could not survive, what marriage can?
Not a one, if it's "happily ever after" a couple is seeking. Perpetual bliss is a dangerous delusion. For no one, not even a prince and princess, can be constantly happy.
Charles and Diana have everything the world says adds up to happiness: health, wealth, beauty, position and privilege.
They don't have to worry about having enough money to pay the heating bill. They don't have to sit at home night after night because they can't afford a movie and a baby sitter. They don't have to go without some needs to put a few toys under the tree. They don't have to worry about losing their jobs or their income or their home.
They don't have to walk past department store windows and dream about having nice things. They can buy anything they want, travel anywhere.
This is the life that ordinary people dream of.
And yet, despite all these advantages, the marriage failed. It makes you think that no marriage stands a chance. It makes you wonder if there is such a thing as everlasting love.
There is. Not perfect love. Not even steady devotion. Love is more erratic. It makes mistakes. It can be short-tempered. It ebbs and rises like the tide, and rages sometimes, because of the pull of the moon, or a sudden storm or a cold front born miles away.
But it's there.
A neighbor, married nearly 60 years, serves dinner at the dining room table every night. She dresses the table with linen, fine china, silver and candles.
She does this for her husband. He enjoys the ritual. And she enjoys pleasing him.
Is the rest of their life so gracious? Has all of their married life been a series of small moments of perfection? Of course not. But there is this daily act of love.
An old woman in a nursing home with Alzheimer's disease is visited by her husband every day. He walks a mile in all kinds of weather to spend the afternoon with her. Sometimes she knows him; sometimes she doesn't. He stays with her anyway. He always knows who she is: the girl he married; the woman he loves.
A man wed 40 years talks about the night he met his wife at a high school dance, describing in detail what she was wearing, how she stood out in the crowd, how bowled over he was by her, how they fell in love at first sight.
How they are still in love.
All these couples gave their marriages time. They clung to their vows during the silences and storms; they worked out their differences and their marriages survived and became stronger in the process.
No marriage is perfect. Tears, disappointment, anger, frustration - these are part of life. Happily ever after is make-believe. Complex, conflicting emotions are real.
There are times when most people wonder if a marriage is worth it, times when you want to throw in the towel.
Life gets overwhelming or claustrophobic or predictable or too demanding, and you dream of the handsome prince and a castle, or maybe the good looking girl at the office, and you ponder, what if?
What if is that even people in castles have problems. Even people who seem to have it all can't live in a state of constant bliss.
A lasting marriage has nothing to do with privilege. It has to so with perseverance and mutual respect.
