I was getting married. Seventh day of November 1976 I sat in the dining room 'Jubilee' and was getting married. An infinite number of guests congratulated us incessantly, shouting 'bitter', something desired. It was all very decent, right. Fatah and white dress, the wedding procession and flowers. Even the TV filming, while it was very cool. The people celebrated the anniversary of the October Revolution and in honor of the event to register a marriage valuable employees, which treated my future husband, was held at the Palace of Culture 'Zheleznodorozhnik' in a particularly festive atmosphere, with a broadcast on local television. Everything was beautiful.
The horror was that I did not feel the anticipated delight crazy luck, or something like that, something good coming from his own wedding in 18 years. Behind my mother's tears, the sighs of envious friends, pre-wedding worries. I was sitting at his own wedding, looked at the drunken guests rose to greetings, kissing the bride and acutely felt the unreality of the situation. It was a movie. Real movies. And I have played a major role. The first sign of the fragility of the marriage was very cold weather.
Never, neither before nor after 1976 a cold this time of year was not. Following unpleasant aspect was the lack of a car that was supposed to take away our sleep in the house of the groom. A relative, who was entrusted to resolve the issue, not agreed, and as a result of beautiful wire married couple in the bedroom did not work. Moreover, we had to walk in the frost in the wedding dress and beautiful shoes instead had someone else's shoe boots so as not to freeze up. AND it was a sign of the second. But the most unpleasant to come. My 'dowry' which should have been delivered to our bedroom to the end of the wedding, was stolen. At first I did not believe it, thought it was just a bad joke. When I realized that this however, burst into tears on his chest and groom mentally said goodbye to him. I already knew, that we do not live together until the silver wedding anniversary. In the 'dowry' was the bed, pillows, my dresses, and other things. But most importantly – there were the boots. This was the third sign. We lived for three years, and then another three years apart, put up again parted. During this time our son was born, and at one period of our separation, I met her first, and only true love. Now, When I approach the half-century anniversary, I understand – the purpose of this marriage was the birth of a son. He became my friend and support, an assistant principal and counselor. But the main thing is not about me. The family of my first husband was no more weddings, although there was still a brother and two sisters. Thus, our son is the only one who will continue to race. So do not believe then in the popular superstitions. Well, my movie where I played a major role, continues, but that's another story.
Tags: Family Life, home and family
