The Script Ended

Grown up

Thanks to the messages I received from PACS'd I thought that I would do the event a bit more justice. I was touched by the congratulations I received and realized why the confused messages from others. That all makes sense because I was both happy and confused.

Confused because a PACS is not a marriage, though many use it like one. MFM thinks it is the same..... But why the confusion? Well as you could probably tell from the previous post, the courts of France go out of their way to make the whole procedure just that - a procedure - one on the order of changing your car registration. No romance or ceremony in sight. 

You do the whole thing alone - no witnesses, no nobody. Just the two of you and the judge in his rugby shirt and Nikes.

I don't know if someday we may also do the wedding part - somehow I have had vague visions of how that would be - an occasion to share with kids, family and friends in a real celebration of the redemptive quality of life. From where I stand near my mid point, I can make the case that a second marriage is cause for even more joy than the first one. Why? 

Because it is all about hope. The first one is happy all right. But it is a happiness (at least for me) that hadn't been battered around quite so much. A light and cheerful and excited happiness.

But just like a middle age man choosing a mid-life woman over her 27 year old younger self because there is a lot more there now that she (and he) has loved before and lived and suffered. So it is with a second union. 

Maybe its also about appreciation. You just don't appreciate something as much as when you don't have it anymore. 

It really could be a great party. Maybe we will do one someday. 

I didn't choose all of that yet. That is a bit confusing. Maybe I am just not ready for all that happiness.......

For now we were very practical. We went on a Wednesday morning in the rain. We did the paperwork. MFM bought a bouquet afterwards. Thank goodness we were too late to get it before. I would have felt really foolish in front of Monsieur Rugby shirt.

Champagne and a romantic dinner were much later that evening.

And here's the happy part. We are happy. It feels nice. There is something about doing all this by ourselves that makes me feel like a real grown-up.

 

PACS or PACS'ED (SP?)

I dreamt of a white wedding when I was a little girl. I would marry a handsome prince and live in a big house with a winding staircase in the entry and polished silver on the table. I would have beautiful children who played nice and practiced their piano. 

I would live happily every after.

And I did.

Then came the after.

Today I was PACS'ed at the Tribunal d'Instance de Paris. Huh?

It was raining.

He wore a tuxedo shirt and bow tie. I wore an ivory silk blouse and boots. The judge (or whatever he was) wore a rugby shirt with "15" on the front, the hems of his jeans were frayed and his Nike's were slip-ons....yes it was a formal affair.

Becoming PACS'ed in France couldn't be less romantic. The poor gays who have to depend on only this to be married! At least we heterosexuals have a choice. But for a myriad of reasons that I sometimes have a hard time articulating, MFM and I decided to go the PACS'ed route to happily every after.

The process is purely procedural.

1 . Judge shuffles the papers in the red cardboard file.

2. Makes the obligatory comment that my birth name is different than my name on lots of other documents.........Duh! THAT name was from those "happily ever after days" don't you understand??

3. Moves directly to stamp stamp stamp on the bottom of official papers.

4. Presents us with the proof of what we have done and how we are joined followed immediately by the official paper explaining how we can undo what we have just done. Correct me if I am wrong but isn't there a line somewhere in my past about not undoing what God has joined together.........? 

5. Search for an envelope in which to put official papers followed by search for our wet umbrellas.

Au revoir.

MFM stopped me on the steps and kissed me in the rain. I tried to figure out how I felt.

Will tell you when I do.