title: ingredients to the pretend soup I made with Sufyan this morning.
We got married tonight. Again. For the 3rd time. And here are the fruits of this marriage- my beloved little monkeys. Story about the marriage follows these pics…
The first time Faris and I got married we did it by “Informal Registration of a Marriage” and signed a paper in front of a county clerk. No vows, just signatures and a nice sushi dinner to celebrate.
The second time we got married we did a big ceremony, inviting all our friends and relatives and renting a venue called The One World Theater. We had light food from vendors we handpicked, wine, a beautiful cake made by a WAHM, an altar designed by a local artist I truly admire, a small classical orchestra, and a lecherous (preposterous, prowling, perverted) camera man.
And tonight we were married by a Sheikh, at a mosque, in the Sheik’s office with Laila in my lap and Sufyan in Faris’s lap. The groom wore a blue “work shirt” (according to Sufyan) and black slacks and comfortable shoes. He had recently trimmed his “I-am-between-jobs beard” and looked very handsome. The bride wore grey slacks she got on a good sale at Banana and had tailored for her shorter stature, a lighter grey mandarin collar shirt with modesty as its main priority, a pair of incredibly sexy black boots (that were unseen under the slacks), and a tan head scarf. I should note that Laila and Sufyan were excellent company, and Sufyan was mesmerized by the recitation of the Quran (which is like singing and when its good its very very good. The Sheik was very very good.)
Faris has just had his last day at work. its not easy for me to step back and look at us, the 4 of us, right now. we are so in it. there is a lot going on: packing, vaccinating (!), doctor appointments as insurance runs out, shopping for various things we will need and can’t get over in Palestine, shipping things we can’t carry, planning, talking, emailing, ….
and then there is life: kids, groceries, friends, showers (almost every day now!), sleep. That last one was just a little joke. Sleep. Hahaha.
Things like this tend to sneak up on me. I remember when I moved to Austin 13 years ago I just sort of put my head down and went. Just like that. And I regretted it because I didn’t properly say goodbye to the friends I was leaving behind. And even more so, I regretted it because I was unprepared for the heartache that followed the huge transition to a new life. I found myself alone and struggling and I hardly even knew how I got there. But of course that is a long story with the happy ending of meeting Faris (and other important friends) and having my 2 babies here.
I remember very clearly on the ride to Austin a song that came on the radio and still haunts me with it’s appropriate lyrics for my life: “I got what I wanted but I lost everything I had.” I actually went out and bought that CD after I settled in Austin just because it seemed like something meant for me.
I don’t want that to happen this time. I want to say proper goodbyes, be adult and honest about how heartbreaking this is and how afraid I am of leaving people I love. Being afraid of leaving isn’t going to stop me, because I am looking so forward to this adventure, but I don’t want to end up in Palestine feeling isolated and shocked to be there.
So I have to look around Austin and make sure I am nodding my head to the places that hold parts of my heart: Brentwood park where Sufyan and I basically spent his entire infancy enjoying each other’s company. Trudy’s North Star restaurant where I learned Spanish and got thrown into the fire of young adulthood (that particularly intense mix of love, sex, alcohol, and late night waitressing shifts that so many people will remember from their 20s), the house on McCandless where Faris and I spent our early marriage and had 2 babies. Places like that.
But then there are the people I am leaving. And that’s much harder.
She adores digging in the rocks no matter how cold her hands are.
he’s hiding. he can’t see me, so he must be hidden!