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It was around the 1940’s, while World War II was in full-swing, hopefully to be over soon. In America, soldiers would go to bars to flirt and have some fun before they got sent off to their next assignment. The ladies enjoyed themselves as well, but if a guy got too fresh with them, they had pointed hairpins that they could use to set him straight.

At one such bar, a young man named John Thomas was socializing and having fun. He had his eye on an attractive lady with great legs. Claire Ewalt was sitting next to him, minding her own business as best she could in a noisy bar, until that clumsy guy accidentally spilled his beer on her fancy new green skirt. His attention tore away from the other woman, and he profusely apologized, offering to have her skirt cleaned. Claire declined his offer and said she would wash it herself. Unfortunately, in washing it by herself, she ended up ruining that skirt. But it did bring John Thomas into her life.

One thing led to another, and they ended up falling in love. He wasn’t Catholic, so Claire’s parents didn’t quite approve. Love won, and they ran away together to get married in 1950. John and Claire Thomas began their new life together filled with the utmost love and devotion. He did end up converting to Catholicism which blessed their marriage with faith and love.

Over the years, they moved several times as a military family, living in Illinois, London, England, elsewhere, and eventually settling in South Dakota. They had four children, one daughter and three sons: Cynthia, Lawrence, John, and Stephen. While they didn’t have a lot of money, they still maintained a life of simplicity, love, and a close family bond.

As their children grew older and settled down with their own families all over the United States, Claire and John ended up moving themselves to Texas where they finally put down roots to remain. Throughout my life, they lived in the same house in a great retirement community with a golf course in their backyard. I always loved visiting them and can even remember the welcoming smell in their house. My family and I lived in Saint Louis, Missouri, so it was a lengthy drive, but I always looked forward to visiting with them.

There’s even a family video recording of my grandparents meeting me for the first time after I was born when we flew up for a family reunion in South Dakota. My grandma had tears in her eyes as she welcomed me. As a child, my brother and I would play dogs with my grandma and grandpa. I can remember with fondness how compassionate and loving they were. It was always a great treat when Grandpa and Grandma Thomas came to visit. Throughout my adolescence they were always so supportive of me and were always so proud to hear about my accomplishments in school, band, choir, theatre, and beyond. They were even able to attend my Senior Vocal Performance Recital, which was the culmination of my Bachelors degree in Music at Webster University.

The love between my grandparents was always visible. They were always holding hands, placing their hand on the other’s leg, stealing kisses, and being affectionate with each other. I remember one time while we were driving somewhere with my Dad and Grandpa in the front while Grandma and I were in the backseat. Grandpa reached back to caress his wife’s leg, but he didn’t look behind him, which caused him to touch my leg instead. I cleared my throat and said, “Grandpa, I think you’re touching the wrong leg. That’s mine.” It was a funny moment.

My Grandpa always had a positive attitude. He was silly, laughed all the time, and created different voices and sounds to put everyone in a good mood. In all my time with him, I never saw him complain once. He was completely devoted to his wife. He was an admirable man with quiet strength. When my father played the guitar during their visits, my grandpa would always chime in singing.

I last visited my grandparents in 2012. It was after that time in August that my grandpa’s health began to steadily decline. They moved to a nursing home where he could receive more care. In December of 2013, he was hospitalized for serious issues, and we thought that we would lose him. But he surprised everyone and held on. Over time, he gradually lost the ability to speak coherently. My family would FaceTime Grandma, and she would include him in the video calls. One Christmas, we called them, and I sang “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” for him. He opened his eyes to listen. It hurt to see his health declining so much.

Last Sunday, on the day before my father would go into surgery for a major spinal fusion, we received word that my grandpa, his father, had passed on to Heaven. We were in the middle of Costco shopping for our dinner that night. We all just formed a big group hug and cried together in the middle of the store. And that night we grilled some great New York Strip Steaks with salad and red wine, toasting a great man.

His body was blessed, and he will be cremated. He will be buried in a major cemetery for veterans in the Dallas area. That internment ceremony will be next year when my father is able to fly to be with his family. I’m very glad that they will be waiting for him to be there along with everyone else. I wish I could be there too, but France is very far away, and I won’t be able to afford the plane ticket.

I haven’t had the chance to really and truly cry and grieve the passing of my Grandpa Thomas, but I wanted to take the time and write a brief account of the love story between my grandparents that lasted 65 years. Their story and enduring love is an inspiration for the entire family and everyone who knew them. I can only hope that my marriage will endure all those years into the future as well. I never knew my maternal grandfather because he died the year my parents married in 1984, but I had the privilege to know John M. Thomas throughout my 25 years of age. I will miss him dearly, but I know that he is in a much better place at peace and able to run, jump, laugh, and speak in Heaven. He is no longer suffering and in the arms of his Father.

We love you, Grandpa.

Easter 1991

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I’m losing track of time while I’m here in France. These past two weeks have gone by so quickly, and sometimes I forget what day of the week it is. It’s hard to believe that I’m living my dream, but here I am.

This past Tuesday we went to Paris to visit the U.S. Embassy so that I could get a document notarized that is one of the required papers for our upcoming marriage. This particular document doesn’t exist in America but is necessary in France, so naturally the only place to obtain it would be the capital. It’s been quite a process getting all of this paperwork together. I suppose having all of these hoops to jump through helps insure that you really do want to get married in the first place. I’ve never been married before, nor have I PACS’d (a French civil union that enables both people to have certain benefits in their co-habitation). So naturally I have to have a signed sworn statement in document form that I am single. I suppose it makes sense to have that, but going to Paris isn’t a simple and cheap little trip.

It was a 6-hour ride, and we were squished in the backseat with another person. I took naps when I could, but I also enjoyed looking at the countryside. French countryside at times looks similar to the Midwest countryside, but there are a lot more forests and trees. There were lots of farms and quaint little villages. Cows look different here in France. Also, it’s perfectly normal to be driving along and suddenly, out of nowhere, you see a castle in the mountains. I love it! We also drove under and through hills and mountains. It was really cool to just look out the window and see what passes by.

We were dropped off in the middle of the city with just our backpacks. The real adventure began in figuring out where we were and how to get to our hotel. We walked and walked and occasionally asked for directions until we got to the correct metro station. As a tip, you shouldn’t ride on the metro if you’re claustrophobic. It gets really cramped and crowded. After several stops, we reached the Gare du Nord and made our way to the surface.

Our hotel was in the 10th arrondissement, and it was actually in a good central location to get to places. Of course, it started raining as we were trying to find it. We finally reached Hotel Picardy, and sighed in relief. At the front desk, we checked in and got our key. The elevator was tiny, but three people could fit in it, provided you didn’t really have luggage. We reached our room at the end of the hall and opened the door to find a quaint little room. It looked nice enough for the price and location. Then we opened the door to the bathroom and found that there wasn’t a shower curtain, nor was the showerhead able to stay fixed on the wall. Oh, and if you wanted to take a bath, there wasn’t a plug. So! We would have to get creative later on.

My appointment at the U.S. Embassy wasn’t until the next day, so we had the evening to do a bit of exploring. Last year, mon ange was in Paris for the Japan Expo. He bought a lock, carved our names on it, and left it on a fence in Montmartre by the Sacré-Cœur Basilica. Our mission was to find the lock and bring it back home with us. We set out on our quest. We saw the basilica at the top of a hill. In order to get there, we had to climb about 250 steps. That was quite a workout! As we were walking along looking for the lock, we heard a young man singing an aria at the base of the steps of the basilica. He had a box where people could leave money, and there was quite a crowd gathered around him. He was good, especially to an untrained ear. C urged me to go up next to him after he had finished and start singing myself. I was too self-conscious and didn’t feel comfortable. Plus, I hadn’t had a chance to warm up. He said I was better then the young man, but I just didn’t want to do it. We moved along, but part of me wonders what would have happened if I had actually gotten up the courage to sing in front of those people… We reached the spot where he remembered putting the lock, only to find that the fencing where he had attached it was no longer there. It was gone! He was disappointed, but I assured him that it wasn’t the end of the world. We can always get a new lock and put it somewhere here in Thonon.

We headed back to our hotel, and when we finally reached our room I was ready to attempt to take a bath. Mon ange made a makeshift plug for the bathtub which actually worked. He’s creative and handy like that. Oh, that was an extremely soothing bath! We had to get up somewhat early the next morning, so we headed to bed.

The next morning, we packed up and checked out of the hotel, making our way to The Avenue des Champs-Élysées, which is basically the fanciest street in Paris. The American Embassy is also in the 8th arrondissement, so we figured that we could walk around and look at the shops while we waited for my appointment at 2pm. Picture all the fancy brand names that come to mind, and they were all there along that avenue. They’re huge stores with fancy displays that do their best to tempt you to come inside and buy something. They had Tiffany and Co., Yves Saint-Laurent, Abercrombie and Fitch, the Disney store, and so many more. We went into Zara and each bought a shirt as a memory of Paris that we can practically use. We also got some magnets, one for our fridge, and some others for our parents.

After several hours, it was time to make our way to the U.S. Embassy for my appointment. Just outside, there were guards stationed to make sure that everyone wanting to go to the embassy had good intentions (aka no terrorists). There was quite a line already, and I was early. I told a security officer that I had an appointment, and showed my passport. He presented it to someone and said that I could go straight on through. I didn’t even have to stand and wait in line. I suppose being an American has its perks sometimes. I left my phone and Fitbit bracelet with security and went into the building with my paper I needed notarized. When I got inside, I took a number and waited. I was 914. After they called me, I gave them the document and was told to go to the window to make the payment. It cost me $50 for them to officially sign and notarize a piece of paper. I personally thought that’s a ridiculous amount of money, but what else could I have done? Nothing, really. I waited for my name to be called yet again. This time, I raised my right hand and swore that everything on that document was true. I signed it, and then I was done. All that waiting and money spent for a trip to Paris just to sign a piece of paper saying that I’m single and have never been married. But hey, at least it’s over and done with! There aren’t much more things I have to do before I can get married. It’s exciting! Now that we achieved our main goal, all that was left was to waste a little more time before meeting our ride to begin our journey back home. We walked to the Eiffel Tower, and I took many pictures along the way.

Paris really is a fascinating city. You hear so many different languages of all the different nationalities visiting France’s capital. It’s easy to get lost with all of the complicated web of roads. People can be rude, but it’s normal. It’s a crowded place full of people trying to get somewhere. They’ll walk across the street without caring that traffic could be approaching. They’ll push their way through the crowds. And they don’t look very happy either. Then again, people that smile a lot are seen as potentially having a screw loose. There is quite a lot of trash everywhere, and parts of the city don’t smell pleasant. But despite all of that, it’s so full of history and life. C doesn’t like Paris, but I do. It’s a complicated place, and if you want to visit, make sure not to expect a fairy-tale that so many films paint in your mind. It’s not somewhere you can just spend two days like we did. Maybe a week at least to hit the main tourist attractions and also discover secret treasures. I definitely would recommend a trip to the City of Light and Love.

Until next time!

Bisous!

At The Avenue des Champs-Élysées

At The Avenue des Champs-Élysées

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I wrote this in 2008 as a final essay for my Freshman Seminar Class.

chinese marriage

Devoting one’s life to another is the ultimate gift and sacrifice. Therefore, marriage is considered to be one of the most important and special rites of passage found all over the world. Beginning a new life with another spouse creates what is vital to carrying on the tradition of family and children. These unions in every culture have particular customs and beliefs that set them apart from others as unique individuals. Yet all have characteristics that are shared and celebrated across nations. China is blessed with a rich history that has withstood thousands of years. Over time, their concept of marriage has evolved. The Igbo people of Nigeria have many fascinating aspects pertaining to their traditional marital customs before the British colonized the land, incorporating modernization. Seeing through the eyes of each culture with the lens of marriage reveals that while both the Igbo and Chinese share a similar belief in descent and process of preparation, differences can be found in their social and family values.

The types of marriages existing in both are closely related. The Igbo believe in exogamy, which is the pursuit of a spouse outside the local group. A man would leave his village and travel to those that were near to seek out a wife. Village members were considered family; therefore a taboo was placed on sexual intercourse between a man and a woman born in the same village (Green 155). A group of people called the “osu,” brought to the land as slaves to the deities, were apart from the free-born people and were therefore forbidden to mix (158). In this way, they are also considered partially endogamous, remaining within their social groups. Descent was patrilineal and traced through the male line. Patrilocality was practiced as the wife would leave her family and move into her husband’s father’s household. Polygyny was acceptable and even preferable to monogamy as the more wives a man had, the more prosperous his household. In modern times though, married couples live neolocally and have their own household. Additionally, monogamy has become more acceptable. Chinese people saw fit to marry within their own social class, being a very important aspect of partner choice. They also believed in patrilineage; it was a male-dominated society, as seen in their authority, employment, place of residence, inheritance, preference of sons, and oppression of women (Xiaowei 295). In the case of polygyny, it was acceptable if a wife was incapable of bearing sons. Extended families were very popular in traditional times, and several generations lived together as did the Igbo. Current standards reveal that the new couple will live with their family only until able to find an apartment of their own.

Creating ties between families for economic reasons was one of the only similarities between each culture’s motivations for marriage, and even the economics involved were different. Trading between Igbo villages placed a large part on mate selection. A man would sometimes marry several wives of different villages along a trade route in order to prevent himself from traveling through hostile lands. In this way, war and disputes could be assuaged (Green 152). The continent of Africa placed a large importance of the household on agriculture; thus the Igbo valued a large family comprised of many wives and children as ideal to work the land and gain much productivity and prosperity (Ohadike xxxii). Love was not considered an important factor; husband and wife could always eventually grow to care for one another. This no longer holds true in modern Nigerian society where marriage for love is the most popular reason. Traditional China sought alliances between families in which both sets of parents would be financially supported in the transference of resources (Xiaowei 289). After 1949, however, the government allowed partners to be found based on love and companionship as well as their political and social environment (Xia 235-236). Material comfort and financial security still remained important (Gunde 172). In a social sense, women sought a man that was tall, wealthy, and had an advanced degree. The most desirable women were those that were young, beautiful, healthy, chaste, and gentle (Xia 237-238). It appears that the Chinese have more standards to take into consideration.

The process and preparations for matrimony in Igboland and China had some related aspects. During the traditional time period, arranged marriages were the norm with the Igbo and could take years to fully settle. The prospective husband would bring palm-wine to the bride’s family who in turn would feed him. Then the girl would visit his home, exchanging gifts (Green 151). Inquiries and investigations would take place between the families: consulting a diviner, asking about premature deaths or twin births, guaranteeing the rules of exogamy were followed. Afterwards, the girl would again travel to her potential husband’s home to have her character tested by the elders and adults of his family. She would be observed in her working habits, abilities with crafts, temperament, as well as form and figure (Uchendu 52). If finally deemed acceptable, the brideprice, or amount paid to the bride’s family in reimbursement for their daughter to be leaving the home, would be settled upon by the two families. Finally, the bride would permanently move into her husband’s village. Traditional China also placed high value on arranged marriages and usually did so through the work of a matchmaker. She was an elderly woman who knew the birthday, appearance, and temperament of every unmarried man and woman in the community (Xia 232). Following the tradition of “men dang hu dui,” the matchmaker joined families of the same economic and social status and was rewarded with gifts and money if successful, leaving possible room for exaggeration on her part (233). An astrologer was also consulted for zodiac compatibility. Today, the decision for marriage usually lies between the couple, meeting on their own through school, work, or a mutual friend (239). Originally considered to be a form of engagement and serious endeavor, dating now became more casual. Gift exchanges between the prospective in-laws were not uncommon. It is interesting to note the importance of going through a selection process and exchanging gifts in the two cultures.

One of the more prominent contrasts dividing the Igbo and Chinese was the actual wedding. With the traditional Igbo, a ceremony was not usually practiced. Most of the emphasis was placed upon the engagement and preparations leading up to when the bride would move into the husband’s family. Now, with acculturation, there are church weddings, civil court marriages, and another option called “marriage by photograph,” common with soldiers in which photographs would be exchanged between the two instead of personally meeting to decide whether or not to pursue a marriage (Uchendu 51). In contrast, China in both the past and present has elaborate ceremonies. The couple would officially register with the local government and proceed with a physical and health examination to ensure a healthy union between the two (Xia 242). Glamorous wedding photos in traditional garments were also taken well in advance. The groom and his family would be in charge of all the wedding expenses except in the case that the bride was not a virgin; in consequence of that occurring, the expenses would be shared (Xiaowei 300). On the day of the wedding, the bride would traditionally be transported to the groom’s home by way of a decorative sedan chair, but now, the groom comes to her house escorted by a fancy motorcade. At her doorstep, he would then be stopped by the bridesmaids who would test his love for his wife-to-be in mischievous tests by forcing him to sing loudly of the depth of his affection to the entire group of guests or to drink something horrible. All would go to a fancy restaurant in Western suits and gowns where there would be fireworks to scare off evil spirits. The couple would drink the marriage wine, called “jiaobeijiu” and would settle down with the guests for an elaborate feast (Xia 245). Igbo people seem to be simpler in their ceremonies.

Another clear dividing line between the two cultures was the matter of divorce. It was perfectly acceptable among the Igbo. A wife could leave her husband, returning to her parent’s house for a few days or even longer, if she was annoyed or felt neglected and mistreated (Green 164). In China, traditionally marriages were binding without the option of divorce; a widow wouldn’t even be able to remarry after the death of her husband (Xia 234). Now in the present, divorce is becoming more acceptable in the case of lack of emotional support, family violence, fading of love, or extramarital affairs. During the Cultural Revolution in particular, divorces were common if one member of the family was in political trouble, therefore protecting the children’s future, surviving socially, and avoiding persecution (Xiaowei 245). Although the standards began differently, the Chinese and Igbo are embracing the option of ending a relationship and no longer living together.

There is another definite contrast between China and Igboland when considering family and children. They were highly valued with the Igbo and believed to be the reincarnations of previous ancestors and spirits (Green 162). Everyone would fawn over them, petting and overindulging until the next child was born. Children spent most of their time in the village center where they would participate in wrestling, informal education, games, dancing, and archery, consequently being raised by the entire village (Uchendu 63). When grown, the children would still maintain close ties with their families. Daughters would travel back to their home village to care for their mothers if they were sick (Green 163). Despite the reverence of children, twin births were a taboo because of the Igbo belief that multiple births lowered humans to the level of beasts. When twins were born, the mother would be isolated and the children destroyed without severing the umbilical cords from their bodies (Uchendu 58). China had a very particular preference for sons to carry on the family name. It was not uncommon for a girl born to be abandoned or a victim of female infanticide. The One-Child Policy of today was introduced by the government in an effort to control the population and, with the introduction of ultrasound scans, led to abortions of fetuses that would have been born girls. Children were viewed in vastly different manners between the two cultures.

Vast distances and language barriers may exist throughout the world, but it is simply amazing how much cultures can share. China and Igboland in particular have very similar family and descent distinctions along with the marriage process. The world is filled with diversity, each culture bringing to the table aspects that set themselves apart from everyone else. This can be seen especially when considering how the two mentioned cultures view children and social values, such as divorce. All humanity is linked in some form with similar beliefs that help when opening eyes to a culture beyond one’s own yet in a way that there is much to learn from one another.

 

Works Cited

Green, M.M.Ibo Village Affairs. New York: Frederick A. Praeger, Inc., 1964.

Gunde, Richard. “Family and Gender.” Culture and Customs of China. Westport: Greenwood Press, 2002. 167-190.

Ohadike, Don C. “Igbo Culture and History.” Introduction. Things Fall Apart. By Chinua Achebe. Johannesburg, South Africa: Heinemann Publishers (Pty) Limited, 1996. xxx-xxxii.

Uchendu, Victor C. The Igbo of Southeast Nigeria.  New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, Inc., 1965.

Xia, Yan R., and Zhi G. Zhou. “The Transition of Courtship, Mate Selection, and Marriage in China.” Mate Selection Across Cultures. Ed. Raeann Hamon and Bron B. Ingoldsby. Thousand Oaks: Sage Publications, Inc., 2003. 231-246.

Xiaowei, Zang. “Family, Kinship, Marriage, and Sexuality.” Understanding Contemporary China. Ed. Robert E. Gamer. Boulder: Lynn Rienner Publishers, Inc, 2003.

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(This was written in March of 2008 for my AP Literature and Composition class.)

 

A sharp crack of a gunshot pierces the still air. Desperate kisses fail to revive the man lying dead, his blood pooling beneath him. The mortal accusation has been proven false but can never bury the newly unearthed feelings. Married lives in the nineteenth century were pieced together by a highly delicate thread, easily threatened by lack of understanding and trust from both the husband and wife. Couples brought together by their parents, usually for economic and aristocratic means, were lucky if they cared for one another. Marriages either remained formal relationships, or they progressed into lives filled with trust and love. In his short stories, French author Guy de Maupassant delves into the private lives of marriages both new and old, usually intimate episodes of what is seen behind closed doors. A.H. Wallace concludes that de Maupassant, in his prose, brings together a common message that marriages can be considered forms of servitude in which the wife has difficulty accepting the domineering treatment of the husband who deludes himself to believing he is the master with the ability to do as he pleases in their relationship (44). This particular attitude of marriage is supported in two of Guy de Maupassant’s short stories entitled “The Wedding Night” and “A Wife’s Confession.”

The beginning of a married life can be very stressful for the new couple, filled with embarrassing mishaps and uncomfortable situations. In Mary Halnon’s article on “Courtship and Marriage,” James Fenimore Cooper relates that in the nineteenth century, “perhaps a great majority of the females marry before the age of twenty, and it is not an uncommon thing to see them mothers at sixteen, seventeen, or eighteen.” Throughout Guy de Maupassant’s short story, “The Wedding Night,” a young woman relates her immersion into the new married life without any previous knowledge of what to expect on the night of the wedding. She is innocently naïve of the concept of sexual intercourse and enters the relationship without anticipating a progression from less intense gestures of affection. In this way, the wife detaches herself from her husband’s expectations and instead dwells on the life she has left behind, reluctant to let go of her old family life. That conviction is contrary to Cooper’s belief in “Courtship and Marriage,” stating that “the wife who is content with the affections of her husband, should grow a little indifferent to the rest of the world” (Halnon). In the short story, the husband believes that his new wife’s innocent avoidance of her duties to be a mockery and exerts his superiority and domination forcefully. “He abused odiously my listlessness and the weakness of my soul. I had not the force to resist him, or even the will. I would bear all, suffer all!” the young woman states (De Maupassant 437). This quote supports the standards of the time period that women should be the docile half of the married relationship, succumbing to the expectations of their husbands. Sometimes men become more attentive to their wives as time progresses which can be seen in Guy de Maupassant’s outcome of “The Wedding Night.” In this story, both people were able to reach a mutual understanding and trust in one another, overcoming the stigma of womanly complacency and overpowering masculinity.

Throughout a marriage, conflicts can arise and seriously threaten the relationship. The nineteenth century brought forth the unrest in societal expectations for the balance of power in marriages. Marie Stopes, as seen in the article, “Marriage in the Nineteenth Century,” promoted her feminist beliefs that were objected by many men of the time, saying, “Far too often, marriage puts an end to a woman’s intellectual life. Marriage can never reach its full stature until women possess as much intellectual freedom and freedom of opportunity within it as do their partners…we are still living in the shadow of the coercive and dwarfing influences of the past.” In De Maupassant’s short story, “A Wife’s Confession,” the woman particularly suffers under the extreme domineering and accusatory actions of her husband. The particular marriage in the story was not based on a foundation of love. “The love which is imposed, sanctioned by law, and blessed by the priest—can we call that love? A legal kiss is never as good as a stolen kiss,” states the young woman when considering her marital situation (De Maupassant 378). She believes that obligation is less favorable than the desire in the chase of courtship. Her husband, on the other hand, believes himself to be a supreme being, always correct and uncontested, never allowing consideration for a different perspective. In the particular time period of the short story, cuckoldry and infidelity were common issues and suspicions in society. “A Wife’s Confession” accounts how the Comte Hervé de Ker suspects his wife of being unfaithful. The reader observes from the viewpoint of the wife, innocent of the allegations and very confused and disturbed by her husband’s irrational behavior as he leads her on a hunt in the forest surrounding their chateau. A man suddenly runs into the clearing, shot and killed by the Comte in front of his horrified wife. Because of her reaction, her husband gets extremely vicious, throwing his spouse violently on top of the dead body. A painful cry reveals the truth as the wife’s maid appears, bringing her wrath upon the murderer of her lover before kissing the cold, dead lips in desperation. The jealousy and suspicion had overcome the husband, leading to a deteriorating affection and health of his marriage. In keeping thoughts from the other person, a married relationship is considerably weakened and potentially doomed. This being as a result of the husband believing himself powerful to take matters into his own hands accompanied by his wife’s obligatory obedience.

With both short stories, Guy de Maupassant incorporates a theme of the dangers of jumping to conclusions in marriages. It can lead to an embarrassing misconception as is seen in “The Wedding Night,” or it can have violent fatal consequences that forever damage a relationship such as the instance in “A Wife’s Confession.” A.H. Wallace and his assertions on the naïve service of the wife and the masterful dominance of the husband in marriages portrayed by De Maupassant in his works amplify these results. With these fictional accounts, De Maupassant sheds an illuminating light on how readers can relate to circumstances and issues while receiving insight on how to more appropriately approach similar situations.

infidelity

-Me

 

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Wedding Poem

February 9, 2010:

 

I wrote this as a second half of a poem dedicated to the now married S and G for their wedding.

 

My entire spirit soars

On the wings of heaven

In a joyous song

Proclaiming

 

This day has come

Where I am no longer myself

But half

Where it is no longer you and me

But we

 

I give to you myself

In all that I will do

Beginning from this day

I will love spending life with you

~*~

❤ Me

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