Jesus Doesn't Ever Leave the Airport
Episode 07:17:2023 - Prompt: Promise
Where Promise took me…
I’ve written a bit about my time living in a squatted house in Berlin in the early 90s, but I haven’t written about Jesus.
I met Jesus Maria Parras Ara - aka Txus - in the courtyard of the Duncker at a party no one attended. I’m not even sure how I was there, but the lack of people gave us time to talk.
Duncker 14/15 was a “besetztes Haus”, an occupied house, since the fall of the Berlin wall in 1989, and was sparsely populated by a diverse mix of people.
Anarchists, Christians, Artists, Wanderers.
Txus embodied all of these aspects except for Christian. While his namesake was Jesus and Mary, his belief system was as far from religion as possible.
He was born into strife.
His mother, he told me, was throwing Molotov Cocktails as a Basque separatist while pregnant with him.
He screen printed his own clothes.
Made his own music.
Owed nobody nothing and loved people.
We quickly became friends and took out VHS equipment from the public TV station to make videos with blue screen and montage effects. Traveled to Poland to shoot random Super 8mm films and produce Zines of collage and poetry.
We were not intimate. We were not romantic. We were likeminded.
Which brings me to the promise of marriage.
One late night at the Duncker…
Txus and I were making collages.
I came up with a tagline about marriage:
Keep your laws out of my affairs.
The idea being that when two people wanted to be together, they were in charge of their relationship. As soon as they brought the government into it, it was no longer theirs.
It was… THEIRS.
I considered marriage a business contract between families. A few goats for the bride. Some more land for the groom. Taxes to be paid to the powers that be.
This is probably why I was such a bad wedding guest. I didn’t respect the formality of the event. I didn’t mean to be a bad wedding guest, but I have a track record to back it up.
Around the time my partner and I became serious - as serious as 27 & 35 can be in Los Angeles - my good friends Carla & Anil were to be married.
I asked my newish partner to be my date. This would be our first dressed up occasion together and our first time traveling as a couple.
The plan was simple.
Take a morning flight from LA to San Jose, get to the hotel, dress, and go to the wedding. But because I never know what to wear, and my partner didn’t have anything for the wedding, I shopped for both of us.
I put the clothes in a big suitcase so we could try them on at the hotel.
Whatever we didn’t wear would be returned.
We arrived at the last minute to board the flight, but DELTA said the suitcase was not going to make it.
Suddenly, the clothing became super important to me.
The wedding would be ornate and beautiful. Anil’s family is Nepalese. I knew it was going to be gorgeous in a natural park full of Redwood trees.
My partner & I quickly switched our tickets to a flight to San Francisco. We would rent a car and drive. It would be close, but we could make it.
Overcoming such obstacles bonded us.
Nothing could stop us!
We landed in SF, but our suitcase did not. Should we wait for the bag?
We were wearing the clothing we woke up in: jeans, sweatshirt, sweater dress.
Panicked, I called Anil.
“Anil, we missed our flight and our baggage didn’t arrive!”
“I’m about to go out to say my vows,” he said. “But please come, and don’t worry about what you’re wearing. We just want you here.”
My partner & I showed up late to the wedding like we just rolled out of bed.
I felt terrible.
I had disrespected my friends and their intention to celebrate their life together.
This was not the only wedding I messed up, and now it will be my turn.
My partner and I have decided to have a wedding after 17-years to share our love with our family and friends. It has nothing to do with the government.
I hope everyone will show up with their hearts & minds open, and their luggage by their side.
YOUR TURN: I started with stories about broken promises. Some were mine to break. Many were promises made to me and broken.
None of them felt good to write.
I didn’t intend to write about Txus, but I knew I wanted to write about weddings, marriage and promises. My feelings about the laws of marriage were encapsulated in that time making collages with him.
Txus is still at it. He has never broken his promise to fight the good fight against war, corruption, greed, racism. Go on, my brother.
Where does PROMISE take you?
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Happy writing!
“I Carole, take you Keith, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, I promise to love and cherish you.”
“To Have and To Hold” refers to more than the physical. “To have” is to receive the gift of the other without reservation; “to hold” implies the commitment to giving. Keith and I are both good givers.
Keith and I had a lot of “better or worse” behind us when we met in our fifties. In our previous marriages, the better had brought us children, interesting jobs, and wonderful friendships. The worse brought the death of friends and family, rejections, and disruptions, including divorce. Thereafter, we did a lot of soul searching and praying— and continue to do so.
“For richer or for poorer.” We’ve never really been poor, but both of us have lived through tight times. Fifteen dollars to make it through the week. Lots of peanut butter sandwiches. Clipping coupons. Turning up the air conditioning; turning down the heat. These days, thanks to many blessings and good planning, we’re comfortable.
“In sickness and in health.” We’re in our seventies now and thank God we have not experienced a serious illness or health crisis. Yet. We’re still hitting all points: physical, spiritual, intellectual, family, and community. But we’re not as physically strong, energetic, or steady on our feet as we used to be. So, we watch ourselves and protect one another.
Then the promise: “to love and cherish you.” According to the Apostle Paul in 1 Corinthians 13:4-7, “Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.” He goes on to say, “Love never fails…” But Keith and I are not always patient or kind; we can be envious, boastful, and prideful – and our failures to keep that promise go on. So, when we fail to love as promised, we say four things: I forgive you, please forgive me, thank you, and I love you. Saying four things and meaning it. That's a promise I can keep.
Our dog, Coby, is nearing the end of his sweet happy dog life. He is 13 which is a good lifespan for a Lab. He struggles standing up off the wood floors. We’ve put carpet strips through the halls so he has comfortable routes wherever he wants to go. He can’t jump up on our bed anymore, and can’t go down the front steps, but he adapts, goes out the back steps instead, sleeps on the low couch in the living room now, that he’s adopted as his. He can’t do long hikes anymore but he stares at me in the early mornings until I take him on our short walk through the woods to the bay. He gets so excited, wagging hard, following me from room to room as I get ready. Once outside, he trudges slowly along the path, limping slightly, no longer racing eagerly all over the woods. I know it is the natural course of things, I know it is almost his time to go, but still I am heartbroken, tearing up even as I write this. We promise him we’ll be with him to the end. “We’ll be there your whole life,” I tell him. Sometimes I hear my husband saying quietly “all the way, buddy,” as he pats him on his head.