Thursday, February 13, 2020

A Valentine Love Letter

To my loving husband,

"How do I love thee?  Let me count the ways."  Remember those words from Elizabeth Barrett Browning?  The poem starts "I love thee to the depth and breadth and height my soul can reach, when feeling out of sight for the words of being and ideal grace.  I love thee to the level of every day's most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.  I love thee freely, as men strive for right.  I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.  I love thee with the passion put to use in my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.  I love thee with a love I seemed to lose with my lost saints.  I love thee with the breath, smiles, tears, of all my life; and if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death."  Those beautiful words written back in the 1800s I choose to use today.

Yes, I do love you, even after decades of marriage.  When I think about the divorce rate today I am amazed we are still together in our 'old age'.  The lives we led, the crazy busyness we experienced, the children we raised, the family vacation trips we took, the financial burdens we experienced, and the 'discussions' (not arguments) we endured, prove that marriage is 'work'.  But how wonderful that in our senior years now we still crave to be with each other, we still find intimacy holding hands or snuggling in our queen size bed at night.  And how I thrill to your tender kisses and soft words, "I love you", that I experience countless times during the day and night.  You have been my protector, my lover, my companion, my counselor, my financial wizard and my best friend.

Remember how we met? In 1953 at that Christmas Hope College party in Queens, New York. You had just returned to the US after serving two years in the Army in Germany during the Korean War.  I was a senior in high school having made the decision to attend Hope and you were returning to Hope to complete your education.  And then the summers at Spring Lake in Wyckoff, NJ where you were head lifeguard (no drownings) and I liked to swim.  First date was pizza in Suffern, NY.  You taught 5th and 6th grade in Holland, MI and I transferred to Columbia University to complete my nursing education. We wrote letters every day, giving details of our lives and always expressing our love.  December 27, 1958 was a beautiful wedding day, sunny and warm.  We wanted a family, no doubt about that.  And we suffered intense grief as our first pregnancy was a miscarriage and our second was a stillborn girl.  During my deep grief and tears, you encouraged me, and supported me with tender devotion.  The birth of a son and three daughters was met with jubilation and celebration.  Our lives were now full.  All during my singing career you performed your role of Daddy while I traveled on weekends singing concerts and you were principal of Sicomac Elementary School in Wyckoff.

And here we are, six decades later, suffering from various maladies but still loving each other dearly.  You, with your progressive dementia and Alzheimer's, now living in a memory care unit, and me, with my weak, handicapped body as a result of brain cancer choosing to live with you under locked, rigid rules so you will never be alone.  While I suffered with brain cancer you were at the hospital every day greeting me with your infectious smile.  And now, I lovingly care for you, to the best of my ability.

How did we do it?  We always talked, never went to sleep until we ironed out our differences and most important forgave each other for hurts, misunderstandings, and stupid self-centered things we did.  Here we are. Two independent, strong willed people and yet we endured.  We now realize no marriage is perfect but God had a reason for bringing one man and one woman together in a loving, passionate, long lasting marriage.  To teach us to lose our self-control, me-first attitude and become more giving.  And now in our senior years of 90 and 84, we find our relationship more tender and endearing than ever before.  We've made it!  We are still together and not suffering in loneliness or grief.  God has truly blessed us!  Thank you, my faithful, true, abiding husband for our wonderful marriage.  You are my 'Valentine'!