Okay, let’s all hold hands, like at a Diana Ross or Barney concert. Let’s take a deep breath through the nose, let it out slowly, and repeat, “I will lower my expectations, I will lower my expectations.” I will not look in the toe of the cross-trainers for an engagement ring. I will not expect tickets to a skybox. A salad shooter is a perfectly fine holiday gift. A glue gun is practical and handy.
Christmas is a big deal to Melanie. A very big deal. She measures her life in terms of the good ones and the bad ones. “My happiest and saddest Christmases fell exactly three years apart. I met Dennis my senior year of college in 1989. We dated seriously for two years and moved in together. My brother was recently engaged and we had been to countless weddings and showers that year. It seemed the right time to get engaged.”
One small problem: Dennis was in no hurry. With a little arm twisting, Melanie got him to shop for engagement rings. Some time before her birthday in October, they found the perfect ring. Melanie wanted that ring on her finger.
“I kept waiting to get it. I was disappointed on my birthday, again on Thanksgiving and during many romantic dinners and other dates. When we opened our presents on Christmas Eve 1991, I was sure I would find a little box with my engagement ring in it. Nothing.”
Christmas was turning into a real bust. Finally, it was time to go to bed. All the tra-la-la-ing was over. The cookies were gone. The egg nog. Even the fruit cake. Melanie’s Christmas spirit was as beaten up as old wrapping paper.
And then Dennis said, “Come here, I found one present you forgot to open.”
“I will never forget how sincere and romantic he sounded as he got down on his knees, opened the box, placed the ring on my finger and asked me to marry him. I was overjoyed and said yes without a moment’s hesitation.” The next eight months were a whirlwind. Melanie was having the time of her life. She loved registering for gifts, attending showers, reading Modern Bride. Taking care of those 8,000 details. “Everything went smoothly. I was the calmest, coolest, most collected, confident bride ever. I paid no attention to the fact that Dennis’ face was bluish-white as I approached him at the end of the aisle. Or that his hands were cold and clammy as he placed the ring on my finger.”
You can pretty much tell things are not going to turn out well. For the next two years Melanie and Dennis were distant with each other, uninterested in each other and basically led separate lives. Now it’s Christmas 1994. Christmas night, after all the festivities were over, Melanie and Dennis went to bed. As she was drifting off to sleep, Dennis said, “There’s one more thing. I want a divorce.” Melanie was shocked, not because Dennis wanted out, but because he had never even been willing to see a counselor. He just wanted out. He moved within a week.
“In 1995 I just went through the motions of Christmas and did the bare minimum, no tree, no cookies, no cards.”
But things are looking up. Melanie is involved in a “loving and caring relationship.” She helped her parents put up a beautiful tree. Lights adorn the house. Cards, TV specials and cookies are all part of her plans. “I have reclaimed the spirit.”
A final note. Melanie and Dennis never got divorced. She signed the papers several months ago, but he didn’t. She’s sure he will and she’s sure when she’ll get them. On Christmas.
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Starting in 1998, Tales From the Front will answer your relationship questions every Thursday. Send questions to Cheryl Lavin, Tales From the Front, Chicago Tribune, 435 N. Michigan Ave., Chicago, Ill. 60611.
