Hi neighbors. I've heard that spring turns a young man's heart to fancy, but for my son it seems late summer was the magic moment.
He came in one evening, sat on the couch and said he no longer considered himself a single man. I was flabbergasted! "What? You got married during lunch today?" I asked.
He smiled and ducked his head. "No, I mean I have found the girl I want to be with the rest of my life. We're not married -- yet."
"Who is this girl? When did you meet her? Why haven't I met her? Bring her to meet me right this minute. What do you mean falling in love with a stranger your mother has never met? Who are her parents? Have you asked her about her genealogy?"
"Mom! Calm down. You'll meet her this weekend. I told her you would cook supper."
"Really? Have you heard about the 'right' foot as in correct method to go? Me? Cook? Do you want to scare the girl away for pity's sake?"
"It will be OK, Mom. She can't cook either."
And so it began. I did meet her, she didn't die from my cooking, and we get along great. It's been more than four months now and they are still in love. They make me smile -- and worry.
There is nothing in the world that can lift you up or throw you down more than love. I asked my son the other day if love was what he had thought it would be. He smiled (and I noticed people in love do tend to smile with a more "dopey" look on their faces) and said, "Yeah. Love is wonderful. It's the being loved back that makes it wonderful. Loving someone and being loved back."
As usual, he hit the nail right on its head. But still, I worry about them. Maybe after the first year I can relax. Love can fade pretty quickly sometimes. But how can I not be enthusiastic about the here and now? As my son said, it is wonderful.
They grin a lot, giggle a lot and look at each other a lot. That's just cute. No matter how it turns out, they are both happy right now and that's what matters -- for right now at least.
People write poetry about love. That points it out as complicated right there. No one agrees on a real definition of "love," and I guess that makes it mysterious as well as complicated.
Some loves last forever. I've known couples married more than 70 years who still grin a lot, giggle a lot and look at each other a lot when together. Either they know a better joke than I've ever heard, or they know real love.
I think some couples stay together out of habit. They stay together because they have always been together. I guess if that works, then they are just as well off together as apart. Most of our lives are built around our habits. We get used to things being a certain way, and how things are is the only way we know them to be. We get comfortable. There's nothing wrong with that.
I've known other couples who have spent their entire married lives fighting and bickering over every little thing. They stay together because "that's just how (s)he is" and they are used to being with each other -- and with having ulcers apparently.
There is a condition called, "true love," I know. But it seems pretty illusive for most people. The transitory condition of "smitten" seems more the case for most couples. I suppose that's OK too.
I've read many books on the psychology and physiology of love; some books on the emotional traumas people have passed through while falling into or out of love.
No one seems to know any more about love than their current condition of involvement with it allows.
You can't turn on a radio without hearing about falling in love, being rejected in love, having your love returned, losing your loved one, losing your own feelings of love for a particular other and for wanting love, searching for love or finding love.
Television shows, movies and books usually have at least some of the characters worried about having, losing, finding or maintaining a state of "love."
Until the next time friends, remember, no matter how strong love is, how long it does or doesn't last, or how suited we are to it and to the beloved; it is definitely the journey that makes the unpredictable destination exciting.