photograph courtesy abigail morici
Dione and Don Makofsky (Gammy and Papa) on their wedding day in 1963.
I got married late in life,” my grandmother’s friend told me in between bites of cake. She talked with her hands, waving a spoon in one. “I was 26.”
My 80-year-old Gammy and two of her friends had toasted each other earlier in the course of our lunch. Their conversation loosened with champagne, and they began talking about their youth. Gammy got married when she was my age, 22. I asked her if she could imagine me married right now, and she laughed loudly — almost insultingly loudly. “Things are different now,” she reassured me, her friends nodding along.
Later, on the phone, I asked Gammy if she had ever imagined a different life for herself — had she ever thought that she wouldn’t get married young, have a baby right away, take care of a family? No, she said. She didn’t expect anything else and nothing else was expected of her.
These days, “honor and obey” has mostly fallen out of use in marriage vows, but I can’t ignore the implicit “honor and obey” in the way many women lead our lives.
But what if things were different then, like they are now? “Well, I think I might’ve wanted to go into medicine,” she answered. Gammy had completed one year of college before her parents pulled her out — they didn’t like the boy she was dating there. Soon after, she met my Papa. “I went from my parents’ house to my husband’s,” she said. “But I rebelled.”
My Papa never really had “control” over her in their more than 55 years of marriage. When they would fight, usually over something minor like whether Papa should have a second bowl of ice cream, he’d remind her of their vows and pull his “honor and obey” card. Gammy would respond colorfully while sticking out her tongue or making another more suggestive gesture. And he wouldn’t get that second bowl of ice cream.
These days, “honor and obey” has mostly fallen out of use in marriage vows, but I can’t ignore the implicit “honor and obey” in the way many women lead our lives. Even though the times and conditions have changed, we’re still honoring and obeying many of the same spoken and unspoken rules as our grandmothers, rules that are more poignant and severe for BIPOC women, transwomen, and non-binary people.
Rules like: Don’t walk home alone at night. Watch your drinks when you’re with a guy, even if you know him, especially if you know him. Fortunately, you can now buy pepper spray or nail polish that changes color when you dip your fingers in a Rohypnol-laced drink. And sure, there’s still a pink tax, but look! the plastic container comes in pink with polka dots.
Follow all the safety guidelines, and you’ll probably be safe. And at least now, compared to when my grandmother was 22, we’re more equipped to be safe. Think seat belts. Sure, car companies aren’t required to use crash test dummies modeled on female bodies, so they don’t. Women have a higher risk of injury and death in car crashes. But the seat belts themselves — times are improving, right? Plus, women have a higher pain tolerance. But never bring that up.
Never bring up the effects of birth or miscarriage or post-partum depression or infertility. Also, don’t talk about periods. It makes people uncomfortable. Sure, periods are the number-one reason for women to miss school and work, but that’s biology. You can’t control it, and any control you think you have over your health and your body depends on the politicians in office — usually the male ones. In the future, reproductive rights might still exist or they might be limited severely or they might be abolished entirely. Who knows?
But don’t fret. You can still live a fruitful and productive life. Luckily, the definition of a productive life has expanded for women. No longer is a woman bound to the home; women can have careers, or they can stay home with the family — men can, too. Women can be doctors, lawyers, engineers. But don’t expect the same pay as men. Luckily, though, if you’re a teacher or nurse or caretaker of some sort, there won’t be a wage gap. Ignore the fact that you’re in a female-dominated field, so it doesn’t get the same level of respect or social value or pay as a male-dominated field. And ignore the fact that all this inequity has been exacerbated by a pandemic, when women, far more than men, cut down on hours or even quit their job altogether once remote learning kicked in.
With that said, though, always prioritize family. If you don’t, who will? Statistically speaking, women take on a far greater burden of household and caretaking responsibilities, the burden of which has increased in the midst of a pandemic. Of course, there are exceptions. I’d consider the men in my life to be a part of that group, but I wish they were the rule, not the exception.
Even so, both my Gammy and I can appreciate one rule: Cultivate and cherish female friendships. “You have to find friends who are close as we are,” Gammy’s friend told me at that lunch, as she dragged her spoon through the last bits of icing smeared on the plate. She winked at me and smiled.
“Carol, that’s a nice thing to say,” Gammy interrupted, “but you have lipstick on your teeth.”
See, what did I tell you?
