Monday was Valentine’s day. I purposely did not write anything sappy on Monday. Because I may be a lot of things, but I am not typically sappy, at least not usually on commercialized cue. I say “typically” because I do have my moments.
Moments like today when I watch my grandma love my grandpa with all of her being. Watch her schedule her day around his needs, taking care to feed and clothe and bathe the man she has loved for some fifty years, before she even begins to think of what she needs to accomplish today for herself. Watch her love a man who once could stand and walk and drive, who once took care of her, and loved her in his strong silent way. A man who can no longer stand or walk or drive, who has not been able to do all of the menial everyday tasks required in this life by himself for over six years now, but who still loves her strongly and no longer silently, though it remains more difficult for him to form syllables than it was at any other point in his life prior to this time.
When watching them together as I did today I do notice myself leaning a bit toward the sappy side. But I find I like my family’s sap. It is good sap, ripe with humor, devotion, sarcasm, and always: stubborn, heartfelt love. Love that makes taking care of your husband your number one priority, because to you he’s worth the struggle. And seeing his face daily, and eating popcorn in bed with him nightly, and holding his hand while the two of you sleep makes your life worth living.
I realize that I really could not have at my disposal a better example of what love between a man and a woman ought to be: not perfect, but steadfast, not without difficulty, but always worth the effort.