What is love? (In my mind that question is quickly followed by 'baby don't hurt me, don't hurt me no more' thanks to the song by Haddaway!)
Following that song though, I have a hundred answers to a question with no one right answer.
We writers write about it, we sing of it, read about it, think about it, hope for it, and crave it.
Images flash through my mind, images of what I interpret true love, the deep down, with-you-no-matter-what kind of love, to be.
They’re not the “love” you usually read or hear of in a song… not the “oh, look at those six-pack-abs” lusty-love, or the “I’m taking a bat to his truck for doing me wrong” love.
I’m talking the real-deal love.
And this is what I think about: The elderly couple I watched recently while waiting in the clinic reception area. With canes resting against their chairs, they talked with each other as if they were best friends. When they were ready to leave, both reached out to the other and helped each other up. Now I don’t know how long they’ve been married, but from a distance, I’m going to say I witnessed a long-time-real-love couple.
Or the person who day in and day out, through rain, snow, or wish-I-was-outside-sunshine, goes to visit their beloved who is in a care center, nursing home, hospital, or an invalid in their own home. Those people who want to spend time with the person who means the world to them, cherishing those precious moments with someone who may not even have the ability to speak anymore.
And then there’s the love of the young. The child who has just given you a near-fatal heart attack after running out in front of a car… the child you would like to now shake for making your heart stop, but only because you love them soooooo much and the thought of living without them is something you never want to experience.
Or the child who kept you up night after night for the first six months of their life, the one who made you a zombie during the day, that child who you live and breathe for and would do anything for. The real deal.
The best feeling in the world is to be truly loved. It’s not what that person can buy you or do for you, it’s the security of their love, the knowledge that they will be there for you.
No matter what. The Beatles had it right… All we need is love.
When you think of "true love", what comes to your mind?
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
Saturday, July 13, 2013
Losing George
So, the news is out--George Clooney is a free man again. It comes as a bit of a shock to me. I was under the impression he and I were still together. Apparently not.
How embarassing to find out about our breakup through the media.
Maybe he found out about my husband? I'm not sure what set him off this time. Next thing you know he'll be walking the red carpet with some young floozy half his age, trying to make me look bad by replacing me with a slightly younger (and likely very high-maintenance) woman.
She will come up short. I mean how can she compete with a mid-western woman who has no problem going a week without makeup, clips coupons, loves to dig in the dirt, considers a meal at McDonalds a "night out", and wears clothes that are ten years old. I saved that man a boat-load of cash. And this is the thanks I get. Public humiliation.
I whined about our breakup the other night to my husband. And got very little sympathy from him. Probably because he and Ashley Judd are apparently still an item.
Just wait until she dumps him. Then he'll be a little more sympathetic.
Until then, I'm turning to you... I'm sure you can relate!
How embarassing to find out about our breakup through the media.
Maybe he found out about my husband? I'm not sure what set him off this time. Next thing you know he'll be walking the red carpet with some young floozy half his age, trying to make me look bad by replacing me with a slightly younger (and likely very high-maintenance) woman.
She will come up short. I mean how can she compete with a mid-western woman who has no problem going a week without makeup, clips coupons, loves to dig in the dirt, considers a meal at McDonalds a "night out", and wears clothes that are ten years old. I saved that man a boat-load of cash. And this is the thanks I get. Public humiliation.
I whined about our breakup the other night to my husband. And got very little sympathy from him. Probably because he and Ashley Judd are apparently still an item.
Just wait until she dumps him. Then he'll be a little more sympathetic.
Until then, I'm turning to you... I'm sure you can relate!
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