My last posting was concerned with two adult professionals treatment of Barron Trump, the son of President Trump. The apparent glee exposed in dragging the presidents child into the septic, sham impeachment exposes the lack of maturity and ignorance of appropriate manners of some on the left. As the parent and grandparent of a legion of female offspring I have had more than my share of crisis and compromise. As a husband and father for nearly thirty years, I can swear to LOVE as the vital bond that welds the heart and soul of families tightly together.
I was a bit disconcerted when I heard of Ilan Omars marriage to her brother, while simultaneously coupled with her most recent coupling called marriage. But when you are trying to identify ir define Muslim Marriage you have many forms and dimensions to investigate. Mutaah maariage is a form of temporary marriage that can last 99 years or just an hour, depending on the need of the male participant. I eschew the word partner because that implies some form of loyalty that would bind the partisipants . This binding of the marriage contract is not a part of a Mutaah marriage. It is truly a marriage of convenenance. So when you just get some stange looks from Ms. Omar when she is asked about the legitimacy of her former and present personal unions it is because muslims have a very different concept of marriage than those in the west do.
Marriage as a contract to the millians who “tie the knot” that is legaly binding in all of athe 50 states. Marriage to the muslim is for the convenience of the male who does not want to break the rules and sin. So this pseudo marriage format, extent plrior to any of the monotheistic religions, is to protect the soul and legiatimate marriages of the other wives he has who might retain a more permenant place than she does. She attains the status just above that of sex slave and just below that of “permanent wife”.
For the sake of my own credibility I add that the big-time marriage ceremonies with many guests and much AK firing into the air still the mainstay of the muslim marriage..
How important can the vows be when it is a marriage of convenience.
How vital can it be when divorce can be had by the man repeating the words ” I divorce you”. Three times.
Slaves as war booty are nothing more than possesions that can be dispensed with in any fashion the master choose. The captive of the “right hand”, a slave held specifically to be raped by her master (whomever owns her). I am not sure what happens to these females once they are past their prime in appearance.
You can have, on Mohammad’s word, have as many as four wives. He can have 11 wives because god told him so.. (God told Mohamed it was ok to eat honey mixed with milk) . when his wife, Aisha complained of his breath, he just left the room and came back in a while, with the story of how Allah had spoken to him, reassuring him that it was just OK that he drink milk and honey. She was always dropping hints on how conveniently the lord interceded when Mohammad wanted his way. Relationships are a different thing in Muzland. jThe have no measure of where human beings are of equal importance. From the snap, women are said to have been of a lesser stature than men by Allah. It is the Muslim mans burden that her pays their bills and feeds them
Klikdapik to read an interesting tidbit on the negative effects of a bad marriage on your heath. It appears that a toxic, conflict ridden marriage can do real damage to your health. Communication and in my opinion, the willingness to accept responsibility for our actions affects the general health of couples. Men, it appears, are particularly vulnerable to the stress of repeated conflicts over the same issues over and over again. Making peace it appears is much more beneficial than proving yourself right.
A picture of Deb (my wife) and your intrepid journalist (her husband) a couple of years ago. I specify husband and wife because this little posting is about commitment, family, and love. But remember that when you marry someone you also marry their family. About twenty years ago my father, Albert M., dropped dead at the age of 62. Ivan, (age 75) my wife’s father, is still kickin’, and when he began showing signs of dementia, Deb made good on the promise to keep him from nursing homes as long as possible. He is now living with us.
Debs Promise: “I will try to keep you out of nursing homes as long as possible.”
The Consequences: Thus far, two years of increasing episodes of dementia characterized by agitation, meaningless and constant wandering,as well as oppositional/defiant behavior, sexually inappropriate harassment of females, (including his granddaughters) and a virtual rogues gallery of hostile beliefs. Example: Ivan became angry at our raising of “old glory” on our flagpole (it looks beautiful at 7500 feet , cradled in the mountains of Ute Pass, West out of Colorado Springs, Colorado. I surmise that as a lifetime democrat he was embarrassed at such an gauche demonstration of patriotism.
The monetary commitment is staggering, the stress is palpable. Frustration over his deteriorating skills and physical abilities make for hypersensitive bullying with “King Baby” demands and tantrums.
Right now transitions are happening. Adjustments in meds are being attempted to regulate mood extremes and boundaries are being established. A spirit of therapeutic detachment is supplanting anger and resentments as it becomes obvious much of our misery is borrowed from Ivan. It is a daily discipline maintain our boundaries, keep sane and keep loving each other.
It is wise to remember that sometimes we need love most when we are most unlovable and even when we can’t feel love we can still behave in a loving manner. The tasks are daunting and it is easy to lose yourself in the mission. Upon meeting a new neighbor a few days ago I found out that she took care of her mother for a decade as she declined through dementia to her eventual passing. This most gentle lady said “Yeah, I left my life for ten years, while I took care of my mother.” Deb and I, on the other hand, want to have a life and still take care of our commitment to her father. So hello again fellow pilgrims, I am still here and and again still “in my life”.
There is no simple, easy answer to life. If I am lucky I will make it to age 62. That was my fathers age at his passing. No male relative has made it further in the last two generations. True it is that I discovered a few health problems that were unchecked in my father and two brothers (all dropped dead from cardio/pulmonary failure) before the age of sixty. Ivan’s contribution to my medical profile is a peptic ulcer I have acquired in recent months. He may out-live me. But at least for now we will stand by “the promise” and keep him in the home.
I have always proselytized our societies lack of character and ever-increasing fear of long term commitment. Next wedding you attend, don’t bother tossing a coin; You will have less that a fifty-fifty chance of the marriage lasting, a 75% chance of infidelity on the male side in the first decade and a 50% chance of infidelity the female side. Now it is put up or shut up time. My little Mighty-Mite and I will go as long as we can. And if Beelzebub’s meaner older brother does kick the bucket, or simply can no longer be adequately cared for at home, we will be able to sleep nights. We will have honored our commitment and remained good to our word.
Right now, installed in the gorgeous cradle of the “high country”, we soldier on, gently caring for a man who once spanked a month old infant for crying too much.