How pleasant, I think, to launch a new project on one’s anniversary.
Happy Anniversary, Marcus!
It is true, you can meet and be married, or re-married, in the afterlife, which is nye on the happiest thing I’ve discovered, along with the ability of ghosts to adopt children. (More on our little devil and angel later.)
There are any number of ways that you can marry post-mortem. Some couples go into death together, as is the case of our dear friends and JS Charities board members Charles and Rachel. They drown together in a boat capsizing just before the Titanic and rather wish they had gone out with a bang rather than in a dinghy. They keep their appearances at round about 80, maintaining that although they made fetching youths, indeed, they much prefer the wizened look of old age.
Our best mates Ed and Jacques–French Canadians–also died together but in a car accident. They were not married at the time, but have since tied the knot, with their anniversary just two weeks after Marcus and I.
Other couples meet after death, in the same sorts of places one would expect couples to meet. In coffee shops, on sporting teams, and often in support groups for new ghosts….maybe that last one is a bit unexpected.
My personal assistant, Danny, who is actually one of my dearest friends at this point, not only met his husband after death, but as Danny died relatively young (22) and quite ill, this also means that he met his first great love after death. He also discovered he fancied men, as well as women. I find both the ability to meet and marry, and the ability to self-explore, to be encouraging circumstances, giving me hope for other young ghosts who pop up too soon.
Marcus and I are in the re-married camp. He lost his first husband Aulus at war, and his second, Rufius, at the time of his own death. He had also been married twice to women–once by force (ending in divorce) and once by friendship.
My own track record is equally polyamorous, but more happily so. I was married simultaneously to Marion, who I mentioned on my “about” page, and to Geoffrey, my schoolmate who set me up in the ways of romance, stayed close through my church-sanctioned marriage, and then reappeared as husband later on after Marion asked me over breakfast one morning just how long I had been in love with Geoffrey, and did he feel the same way, causing me to nearly choke on my porridge.
Given my utterly happy marriages, I was absolutely astonished when Marcus turned down my first marriage proposal. Perhaps after just six months I came across as a tad bit unctuous, and perhaps he was surprised I would even ask after I spent about two of those months sulking about and wondering when he would move out of my host’s mental space, leaving me the hell alone. Perhaps.
But in any case, he obviously came around to the idea.
And now here we are, four years in, and still–most days–relatively…blissful is not the right word. Energized by each other’s company, comforted by each other’s embrace, and inspired by each other’s efforts. He is an excellent father, a stalwart best friend, and he makes one hell of a cheesecake, which I get to eat precisely two times a year. He is also batty for dinosaurs, sharks, Locke Lamora, his horse (Nox, or Noxwell as I call him), Christmas-time, fireworks, army drills, falcons, fast cars, and republics.
Oh, and for me. ; )
This post is dedicated to him–to my Marcus. Amo, Juni.