True Love
Sunday, February 14, 2010 A very long time ago, a 17 year-old girl and an 18 year-old boy fell in love. They married, probably too soon and adolescent by most people's standards, but I have to assume the passion was intoxicating, as it always is in young love. They were joined by a baby girl shortly after.
There was a war that separated the young lovers, but they managed to conceive another baby girl. The young father didn't meet his second daughter until she was two years-old. Not uncommon for war babies.
After the war, the boy, now a man, returned home full of ambition and purpose. Very intelligent, he was accepted to the Thunderbird School of Global Management, which at the time was a prestigious new school. He graduated, began working for a global company, succeeded in climbing the corporate ladder, and moved his wife and daughters to Manila, Philippines, where he assumed a significant leadership role for a large corporation.
A son was born in Manila. The family was happy, healthy, and wealthy. They wanted for nothing. There was a maid, a driver, a gardener, a houseboy, even people to sew haute couture dresses for the girls as they began attending formal parties. They were able to travel the world and see sites with personal guides. Life was good.
Then again...life was life. Things happen. People make mistakes. There were parties and drinking and more parties. It was glamorous to have a cigarette in one hand and a cocktail in the other. One thing led to another and the man began an affair with his assistant.
The girls grew into young women and returned to the United States to attend college. The mother and her son eventually followed. There was a divorce. The man married his assistant. The woman remained single, although fielded a proposal or two in subsequent years.
Life continued. Even though he'd married another, the man still loved the woman, and she him. He returned to the United States with his new wife, battled heart disease and other demons. The new wife seemed to understand where she fit into the hierarchy of his love.
Sadly, the still single woman, now a grandmother—my grandmother—developed esophageal cancer. She lost her fight in a small Indiana town at the age of 69. In a large California city, the married man, now a grandfather—my grandfather—followed her fight and was deeply saddened to hear of her loss.
I grew up hearing about the love affair that was my grandparents'. It was difficult for me to understand why they just didn't run back into each other's arms. My grandmother told me stories dripping with adventure, love, passion and heartbreak. It's complicated, she would say. Even at a young age, I began to appreciate this.
In 1990 I traveled to Indiana for Grandmother's memorial service. I had been married less than a year. When I arrived at my aunt's small apartment, where Grandmother died, there was a beautiful bouquet of yellow roses. It was from Grandad. The card read, Goodnight Sweetheart. I'll see you in my dreams.
True story. Happy Valentine's Day.
Reader Comments (28)
More than three decades into the process. That's my take.
I always appreciate your take, V. I value intelligent women willing to share their experiences. It's sad. The not being able to "go back". You're right though. Different doesn't mean better, or worse. It seems those who can move forward, absorbing the changes in life and relationships, "making something new" as you say, can find a peace of sorts. Maybe.
Is my wife my "One True Love?" There was no whirlwind romance. No being swept away to remote locales or cocktails with the upper crust.
But we've shared other moments. Tender ones. Ones filled with as much joy as one can experience and remain sane.
Interesting post, my friend. As always . . .
The older I get, the less black and white I see. I'm more open to the uniqueness of an individual's circumstances and path. It's not always about right and wrong... for me.
I understand. I think it's different for everyone, but as I ask some of the mature folks in my life, there seem to be some common buckets that people fall into. Fascinates me. Sounds like you and your wife have a very rich relationship.
Follow me if you want on http://ptitevalentine-be.blogspot.com/
x Valentine
I wonder what stories lie in my past that I may never know about? Well, I guess I'll never know! :) But I am sure there are some there.
Happy Thursday, Chris! (And Friday, and all the days that ensue.)xo
P.S. I've given up pastry for Lent! yep, seriously!! Who knew it could happen, eh?
Sometimes those things we let go become romanticized to epic degree into being things they maybe never were, but things we nevertheless always wanted to imagine them to be.
I feel very lucky. My one true love is sitting beside me reading the morning paper, sharing bits of news with me as it strikes him, as I type this. Twenty-seven years and counting of never letting go, and still it is romanticized inside my heart, to epic degree. ;-)