A Love that Lasts a Lifetime

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While rummaging through the house last night for Marj's birth certificate, Tom came across some of our old love letters that dated back to our college days, when love was supreme, an unparalleled, prevalent force like a generous dictator. That same love is now 25 years old. Responsibility, familiarity, acedia, bone-deep weariness, disillusionment have all banned together in years of guerilla warfare with it's stealth and mortal ambushes & have dethroned the dictator. The dictator's still around, but he's old and stripped of power.

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The dictator (Love) now has a quiet, gentle spirit that only speaks to those who listen with intention and yearning. He's like an old war hero we trust and rely upon to keep us from total annihilation, knowing that his governing is the best for the kingdom and for the citizens individually. Knowing that someday he'll resume power again with that same intoxicating vivacity. Watching, as all around us comrades give up in defeat, just short of reaching the coveted resurgence.

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Upon reading the love letters of my youth, I was surprised to find that I haven't changed much at all. 25 years later, I'm still the same me. I still have the same dreams. I still have the same fancies. I still have a fascination for pen & ink, fancy linen papers, fun colors. I still like to add primitive sketches to illustrate my points. I addressed one envelope in calligraphy and found myself amused that 25 years later, I still have a calligraphy pen in my purse, on my person at all times. 25 years ago, I included a sketch drawing of my sneaking up on my computer in the dark of night, crumbs falling from my mouth, "chomp, chomp" in a cloud above my head. Oh how today I still love to sneak up on my computer, have time alone to write and read, converse with people all over the world (twitter!!), deviously avoiding what I "should be doing." 25 years ago I mentioned going to a Prince concert with "Patti" and rocking the joint. Today I mentioned going to WinterJam and rocking the "casbah." Only today when I reference Patti, it is my daughter Patti to whom I refer. My friend Patti and I too busy with life to maintain a friendship.

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25 years ago I dreamily, skeptically wrote to my future husband "Wouldn't it be fun to tour the west by train someday?!" I wrote with breathless anticipation about living our dreams together forever. I now stand in awe of the strong current of Love that carried us through one dream after another. Yes, we did go west (with our three children.) Rafting and flyfishing at Yosemite, gazing at the redwoods in Sequoia, mountain biking in Moab, Utah, taking the train through Durango, Colorado, gasping for air in Death Valley. My smile is rueful, bittersweet, thinking of the many more dreams we also saw achieved, but also thinking of the significant battles and dry valleys that we also confronted, clinging resiliently to my 25 year old promise "...then we'll love each other all the more!"

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It takes a lifetime to fulfill a love.

In our instant society today, we don't want to wait a lifetime, we don't want to endure the discomfort, we don't want to sit quietly, patiently, at the feet of the seemingly unresponsive dictator & learn from his nuances. And we sure don't want to learn the selflessness he has to teach. We long for his stimulating, energizing force and try to find it elsewhere.
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It takes a village to support a love.

It takes heroes, benefactors and diligent role models. My parents & my husband's parents have endured, they have shown a love that is both buoyant and arduous, but above all, permanent.

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25 years ago I wrote to my sweetheart:

"My mother's dream is to take a cruise with my father. He says, 'Sure, Cookie, when the kids are grown.' Every year she says, 'Still no cruise, huh?' and every year he says, 'But Cookie, the kids aren't grown!' Poor mom, I'll never grow up & she'll never get her cruise."

I was wrong. She got her cruise. She got several cruises. She got all her children, grandchildren and one great-grandchild on a cruise with her! In fact, as I type this, she is again on a cruise, just her and her true love of 48 years. I picture them leaning on the ship's rail, nothing but sea surrounding them, aches and weariness in their bones, remembering when their love was young, a ball of fire rolling unswervingly into the future.