Our Love is More Romantic Than Romeo and Juliet's

Happy St. Valentine's Day!

 Once again it is Valentine's Day.  It is a day when it is natural to wonder, "does anybody love me."  But I have been lucky, never, in my 48 years have I not known that the answer to that question was a resounding, "YES!".

 My parents were not rich or perfect, but they loved my brothers and I without any room for doubt.  They got mad and yelled, they fought and worried, and Mom had extreme mood swings, but they said, "I love you" a lot, and they had a firm policy of never leaving the house without a good-by kiss just in case someone never made it back.  They took us with them, everywhere and we laughed more than we cried.

Of course there have to be difficult times, to help us grow and learn and become the strong people we are capable of being, and my test by fire came in school, where I never really fit in, and never failed to attract easing and bullying.  So while I always knew my family loved me, I was wracked by doubt that anyone else ever would.

 But again, I have been Lucky, wonderfully, undeservedly so.  I met a man when I was only 18, and our first date was just a few days after Valentine's day, 30 years ago this year.  At the time we were barely more than kids, but our minds were deaf to the predictions of failure from those older and wiser.  We never gee up, and it wasn't easy, but one of the first things he told me was, "I don't believe in divorce.  Murder, Yes, divorce never."

So we have been together 30 years, and I have to justify my title by insisting, sure, it is romantic to see a stranger on a moonlit balcony and proclaim a love worth dying for.  But it is more romantic to live with, and for someone through everything.

Valentine's Day flowers last briefly, but you know the love is real when you both are on your knees, hugging the porcelain god, and he looks up with flu wracked eyes and says, "I'd rather be this sick with you, than healthy with anyone else."

 We were scrawny, young people in love - and over the years we have grown (now I'm twice the woman I was) and changed and yet - I love him still

 I love that he knows me so well that he finishes my sentences, and gets the reason a certain word makes me laugh or cry

 I love that he held my hand as I was in agony in the hospital with appendicitis and again as I was in tears of joy holding each of our new babies.  I love that he knew I'd need him the day my parents went home after a 2 week visit and packed the car and took me camping.  I love that he knew I'd be there all summer when his Mom needed him at the hospital in Rochester, MN

 When we were young, people mistook us for siblings and we never went anywhere without being sued if we were brother and sister.

 But my real brothers don't look or act much like me at all, and yet my husband loves them because I love them.

 I swear the boys Duct taped their own mouths in this picture taken by my Mother-in-law.

 And as our boys have grown and their life has sped up, ours slowed down a bit and became more relaxed.

 We may not exactly make the "Most beautiful People" list, but I know, when I look at him, I am looking at beauty.

 There is a deep Joy in being loved, a peace in knowing that we might disagree and argue, but that I will never cease to celebrate that this wonderful person really knows me, and loves me because of who I am.

Thank you, Mimi and Harvey, for having such a wonderful son.

I Love You Greg.