Monday, April 25, 2005
What Love Is
I have a friend who is falling in love. She honestly claims the sky is bluer. Mozart moves her to tears. She has lost 15 pounds and looks like a cover girl. "I'm young again!" she shouts exuberantly.As my friend raves on about her new love, I've taken a good look at my old one.
My husband of almost 20 years, Scott, has gained 15 pounds. Once a marathon runner, he now runs down hospital halls. His hairline is receding and his body shows the signs of long working hours and too many candy bars. Yet, he can still give me a certain look across the restaurant table that makes me want to ask for the check and head home.
When my friend asked me, what will make this love last?, I ran through all the obvious reasons - shared interests, unselfishness, physical attraction, and communication. Yet, there's more.
We still have fun, spontaneous good times. Yesterday, after slipping the rubber band off the rolled up newspaper, Scott flipped it playfully at me - this led to an all-out war. Last Saturday at the grocery, we split the list and raced each other to see who could make it to the checkout first. Even washing dishes can be a blast. We enjoy simply being together.
And there are surprises. One time I came home to find a note on the front door that led me to another note, then another, until I reached the walk-in closet. I opened the door to find Scott holding a pot of gold [my cooking kettle] and the treasure of a gift package. Sometimes I leave him notes on the mirror and little presents under his pillow.
There is still understanding. I understand that he must play basketball with the guys. And he understands why, once a year, I must get away from the house, the kids --- and even him --- to meet my sisters for a few days of nonstop talking and laughing.
There is forgiveness. When I'm embarrassingly loud and crazy at parties, Scott forgives me. When he confessed losing some of our savings in the stock market, I gave him a hug and said, "It's okay. It's only money."
There is sensitivity. Last week he walked through the door with that look that tells me it's been a tough day. After he spent some time with the kids, I asked him what happened. He told me about a 60-year old woman who'd had a stroke. He wept as he recalled the woman's husband standing beside her bed, caressing her hand. How was he going to tell this husband of 40 years that his wife would probably never recover? I shed a few tears myself. Because of the medical crisis, because there were still people who have been married 40 years, because my husband is still moved and concerned after years of hospital rooms and dying patients.
Finally, there is knowing. I know Scott will throw his laundry just shy of the hamper every night, he'll be late to most appointments, and eat the last chocolate in the box. He knows I sleep with a pillow over my head, that I'll lock us out of the house at a regular basis, and I will also eat the last chocolate.
I guess our love lasts because it is comfortable. No, the sky is not bluer - it's just a familiar hue. We don't feel particularly young - we've experienced too much that has contributed to our growth and wisdom, taking its toll on our bodies and created our memories.
I hope we've got what it takes to make our love last. As a bride, I had Scott's wedding band engraved with Robert Browning's line, grow old along with me.
There are some people who meet that somebody that they can never stop loving no matter how hard they try. I wouldn't expect you to understand that, or even believe it, but trust me, there are some love that don't go away. And maybe that makes them crazy, but we should all be lucky to end up with that somebody who has a little of that insanity, somebody who never lets go, somebody who cherishes you forever.
XOXOXOXOXOXO
by anonymous
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