Manolo for the Brides

As a child, I was taken on a trip to a variety of sites connected with the early history of the United States. Williamsburg was a particular favorite, because I got my first whiff of how it really was to live in another time. Monticello was a disappointment because the tour guides were so stuffy. Mount Vernon, well, unfortunately the thing I remember best from that visit was the gnats. They were vicious, huge, and more than plentiful.

When we moved on to Washington DC, we went to the Smithsonian. In that museum, my life took a big turn.

I was nine at the time, Nixon resided in the White House, and the First Ladies’ Dresses exhibit was just that: one outfit worn by each First Lady from Martha Washington to Pat Nixon. I was transfixed. For the first time in my short life, I really understood that history is people, and those people were every bit as real as I.

Even though the exhibit didn’t really tell me much about the women who wore those dresses, I quickly became obssessed with learning as much as I could about them. It didn’t take long for me to discover Abigail Adams and take a strong liking to her. My parents encouraged me in my studies and bought me books. One of those was a book of letters between John and Abigail Adams.

In many ways, the Adams’ became my ideal of what a marriage should be. They hated being separated, but the fact that they spent many months - even years - apart at a time during their long marriage is the reason I’ve learned so much from them about what a marriage should be. During those enforced separations, they carried on one of the most fascinating, witty, loving, and poignant correspondences in American history. The title of this article is the salutation they used on every letter, from their earliest courtship to the end of their days.

It also happens to be the title of a brand new edition of their collected letters. This new edition contains 289 letters, covering a longer period than earlier editions have done. In these letters, they discuss politics, child-rearing, weddings and funerals they attended, gossip both from the family farm in Braintree, MA and from the Continental Congress, John’s ongoing concerns with his own health (he was quite a hypocondriac!) and Abigail’s growing concerns that a child she was carrying might be stillborn. Through it all, their love, devotion, and unshakable respect for one another shines from every page.

Too often, it is said, we concentrate on weddings without due consideration for the marriages that follow. Reading these letters, I cannot help but think about my own marriage and resolve to appreciate what I have in Mr. Twistie all the more. He is truly my dearest friend.

If you’ve found your dearest friend, share this book.

This entry was posted on Saturday, December 8th, 2007 at 8:28 am by Twistie and is filed under Gifts. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site. Share This