Posted by Meagan Fisher on August 26th, 2009
It’s hard for me to believe I haven’t posted here since June. It feels like just yesterday I was sitting on a hotel room floor at 4AM, struggling to write about my Dad. Turns out that was a lot of yesterdays ago, and so many things have happened since then.
Jason and I on our first day in Salem, about 13 months ago.
I realized I’ve been in Salem for a whole year already, which makes me think about how quickly time is passing, and how I should be living my life as much as possible.
So I visited Cancun, where it occurred to me that I do miss the beach and the sun and the tourists of Florida, but only a little bit.
View from our hotel in Cancun.
I moved into a new apartment on the fifth floor of an old building. It’s been painful for my thighs, but good for my outlook.
Working at the new apartment.
My little brother, who is one of my favorite people in the universe, came to visit for a week. He’s currently into Japanese robots, so I spent the week driving to strange and fascinating collectible shops around Boston.
Thomas at Derby Wharf.
I celebrated my six year anniversary with Jason, and was once again stunned and grateful that he’s tolerated me for so long.
Jason at the Salem Willows, on our anniversary.
I also worked a ridiculous number of hours for some incredible clients, got completely burnt out, and did practically nothing for a week.
A website I recently finished designing and developing.
During this period of nothingness I watched a lot of True Blood, started a Tumblr blog, and felt vaguely sick with myself for being completely lazy and worthless.
A tweet from one of my lazier moments.
I’m just now pulling out of this slump, and recovering from the life overload that the past few months have been.
That’s my summer so far; how’s your summer going?
Posted by Meagan Fisher on June 21st, 2009
Dad and I, when I was still super tiny.
Writing about a made up Hallmark holiday without being cliched is hard, so it seemed like a good challenge to write a Father’s Day post. It’s difficult to talk about family, and I often think “who the hell cares about my unremarkable life?” But honest writing about relationships is my favorite kind to read and write. And there’s a lot that I could say about my dad.
We had a complicated relationship when I was growing up, as fathers and daughters often do. There’s no rule book for being a Dad, and mine didn’t have much of an example to work from. It’s not that my grandpa was absent; we celebrated his 50th wedding anniversary before he died. But my dad was one of eight kids, so my grandpa worked two jobs. When Grandpa wasn’t at work, he spent a fair amount of his spare time beating up my Dad.
My father had a hard life, much harder than anyone deserves. He was beat to hell as a kid, shot to pieces in Vietnam, he’s struggled with addiction, his first marriage was volatile. These things weighed heavily on him.
I didn’t know all the things my father had been through until I was much older. I sensed it, the way children can, but I was also completely self-absorbed, the way children are. To me, his past was irrelevant, because he was supposed to be more than just a person; he was my dad, and any imperfection was unforgivable. He’d done so many amazing things for me throughout my childhood; we’d take special trips to cool historical sites around the South, and he’d sit on my piano bench and turn pages for me while I played. He helped me with my homework, and taught me a lot of what I know about design and craftsmanship. But for the first 20 years of my life, I mainly thought about the times when he’d yelled too loud, or spanked me too hard. Like many children, I couldn’t see that my dad was just a person, someone who makes mistakes and tries really hard but sometimes fails.
Now I’ve lived nearly a quarter of a century, and had some time to make some whopping mistakes of my own. Thanks to my parents’ love I’ll never have to face the kinds of trials Dad did, but if did I don’t think I’d come through them with my optimism and integrity intact, the way he has. Now that I’m old enough to understand the struggles my Dad’s had in his life, I’m old enough to forgive any strain our relationship experienced when I was younger.
And we’ve become good friends. He backs me up 100% of the time, even if we don’t agree, and he’s always the first to volunteer his money or time to any cause I might take up. He has loved and supported Jason and I as we forge a life of our own together. He and my younger brother are best friends; he bikes and plays guitar just to stay close to Thomas in his teenage years. He works 40+ hours a week, despite his ailing back, worsening arthritis, and forty year old war wounds. So thank you for everything, Dad. Thank you especially for driving 1300 miles so we could be together this Father’s Day. I love you.
Posted by Meagan Fisher on June 5th, 2009
I wear a my great-aunt’s engagement ring on “the finger,” so naturally a lot of people ask Jason and I if we’re engaged. We both laugh and say no, and I explain that I inherited the ring, and that this is the only finger it fits on. The other is occupied by a small diamond my parents gave me for Christmas one year. I wear both rings as a reminder of family, and because I miss them now that I’m far away from them. I don’t need a ring to remind me of Jason, because we’re never apart for more than a fifteen minute toilet break.
The next question we usually get is “so when are you two getting married?” One or both of us will smile and say “never,” at which point this hypothetical questioner tends to back away awkwardly. What we don’t feel like explaining is that not getting married is a choice we’ve discussed openly and made together. People tend to assume that I’m angry about not being engaged, that Jason’s got cold feet or that we’re not really that close. But they couldn’t be more wrong.
We mainly hate the institution of marriage. Historically, it represents a lot of disgusting things, such as a business arrangement between a father and a suitor. It’s been a symbol of men owning women. It’s been denied to many people throughout history; only a handful of decades ago many states prevented couples of mixed race from getting married. More recently, there are people fighting to prevent marriage between couples of the same sex. It’s like some kind of club that only certain types of people are allowed into, and once you get in you’re sometimes desperate to get out.
We also hate the general concept of weddings. Jason was a wedding videographer for a couple years, and he got a behind the scenes look at the energy and money that gets wasted on weddings. Don’t get me wrong - I enjoy getting dressed up and being told I look beautiful, Jason looks damn good in a suit, and I seriously love cake. But that’s about the end of the appeal. I don’t like churches, I refuse to dance in public, and (not that I don’t love them to death, but) the very idea of having all our friends and family together in one place makes me tired.
Having said all that, I am still genuinely glad for my friends who want to get married and are able do so. My good friend Jermaine is engaged, and I know how thrilled he is about it. Seeing him that glowing and excited makes me incredibly happy. I also wept like a baby when my hero Ellen Degeneres talked about marrying her kick-ass girlfriend Portia Di Rossi, because you could tell they were both so ecstatic to be doing it. That’s the thing - I believe everyone should just do whatever will bring them the most joy.
I really love not being married, to me it’s the most romantic decision we’ve ever made. We can stop being together whenever we want, because we’ve never sworn before our families and some priest that we will be in love forever. We’re not bound by contracts, licenses, and name changes to stick with it. We don’t have a mortgage, our finances are relatively independent, and we’re not staying together for the kids. I think it’s awesome that Jason could go anytime he wants, but every day for almost six years he’s chosen to stay. Even on the crying days, the angry days, the sweatpants and no shower days. There’s nothing keeping him here except his ability to see through all the bad and love me anyway. And that feels right to us.
