While everyone else tried very hard to be politically correct and say the right things and spare people’s feelings – at 72, Carl realized that about the only good thing about getting old was that you don’t need to give a flying f… about anyone or anything.
So, whenever possible (which was always) – he always spoke his truth.
He was husband to auntie, great-uncle to Ella and he was the Say-It-Like-it-Is-Uncle to Emma.
And when he speaks, everyone listens.
by the messy optimist
On the secret language between married couples
One thing that everyone in our family most worried about when it came to our uncle was his significant other. Given his penchant for not sugarcoating anything and, literally, saying things as it is (and hence the nickname Say-it-is-like-it-is uncle and, yes, his nickname is a mile longer than his actual name and, yes, we get the irony in all of that) we wondered if his partner-in-crime could match up to him and/or tolerate him.
Thirty years of marriage later – there are still times when we get together and gossip behind uncle’s back and worry about auntie’s mental health. I mean, given how much he gives me a run for my money and I’m only just his niece and more than 40 years younger than him…we worried about our 68-year-old auntie.
Well, we didn’t really need do.
That day – I’d just met auntie for a quick drink before she went off to her book club and something she said in passing as she left made me wonder. So, I immediately showed at uncle’s for a tete-a-tete.
Me: So, uncle? Auntie says that after decades of being married a husband and wife have these special quirks that are unique and understandable only to them. Right?
Uncle: That’s right.
Me: Like, I believe the two of you often have these one-word conversations. Is that true?
Uncle: Yes. When she says “goodnight” to me at four in the evening? It means, “Go away and leave me alone and let me watch my sappy and insipid TV soap operas without you bugging me and judging me constantly as to why I waste my time watching them. If I’ve tolerated you for 30-something years – I deserve those soap operas.”
Marriage
I’m not married and it looks like that situation will not be changing anytime soon. But I still have very strong opinions on said institution.
For example: I’ve never understood how women take their husband’s last name after they get married. It’s like…their whole life, their identity till then is tied to the name they were born with. And the second they get married – they let go of who they were before their marriage and take on a new name.
AND happily take on all the hassle that comes with it.
Like changing your name in your passport, driver’s license, bank accounts and other documents. And what if you got divorced? You’d have to do the same thing all over again. And the argument about wanting to have the same last name as your children? So weak. I mean – the woman carries a child in her body for nine months and pushes a live human from her vagina but the child takes on the father’s name? Like, WTF? WTAF? Where’s the justice in that? The patriarchy and the havoc it’s unleashed in the world pisses me off.
Me: Uncle? That’s why I admire all of my married female friends who have chosen not to take their husbands’ last names after marriage. And while I secretly judge the ones who did take their husbands’ name – I guess I’m OK if it’s THEIR choice. And they don’t do it because they are forced to. But this got me a little verklempt. I just read about this Indian male journalist who took his wife’s last name for himself. He was Swaminathan Iyer. She was Helen Ankelesaria. So he became Swaminathan Anklesaria Iyer. And she became Helen Anklesaria Iyer. Basically, both husband and wife have kept their maiden last names AND have taken their partners’ last names as well. True partnership, you say? I think so. You ever think of doing that, uncle?
Uncle: I tried. Your aunt told me I wasn’t worthy of her last name.
