While You Were Sleeping In Seattle, I Married A Fat, Greek Wedding Planner: An Ode To Chick-Flicks And Twenty-Three Years
Let your fountain be blessed, and rejoice in the wife of your youth…be intoxicated always with her love.”
(Proverbs 5:18,19)
“See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand!
Oh, that I were a glove upon that hand,
That I might touch that cheek.”
William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet
“You stay alive, no matter what occurs! I will find you. No matter how long it takes, no matter how far, I will find you.”
Hawkeye, Last of the Mohicans
“I would rather share one lifetime with you than face all the ages of this world alone. I choose a mortal life.”
Arwen Evenstar, Fellowship of the Ring
Darcy: What endearments am I allowed?
Lizzie: Well, let me think…”Lizzie” for everyday…”my pearl” for Sundays, and “Goddess Divine,” but only on special occasions.
Darcy: And what am I to call you when I’m cross? “ MRS. Darcy?”
Lizzie: No, you may only call me “Mrs. Darcy” when you are perfectly, completely and incandescently happy!”
Darcy: And how are you, this evening…MRS. Darcy?”
Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice
“You have given me the highest, completest proof of love that ever one human being gave another. I am all gratitude and all pride (under the proper feeling which ascribes pride to the right Source); all pride that my life has been so crowned by you.”
—Robert Browning to his “Ba” (Elizabeth Barrett Browning)
When we first got married, it was Rambo, Clint and Chuck. As I look back now upon our evolving love affair, I see that we (that is to say, I) have mellowed and lean more toward the “sense and sensibility” and far less gore and dismemberment of Austen. Methinks I like this a whole lot better.
Who cares if convention sees us as boring and old? We are seasoned, not old. If seasoning makes something even better, then our something has taken on more flavor and appeal through the years. And what, pray tell, if we are aging? Two words: fine wine. To put it as Browning, “Grow old along with me; the Best is yet to be!”
You know any man who has bawled through “Steel Magnolias” more than once has GOT to be a hopeless romantic. Guilty as charged. I know Truvy (Dolly) said, “Time marches on and sooner or later you realize it is marchin’ across your face!” but I defer to the pragmatic Shelby (Julia) who opined, “I’d rather have thirty minutes of wonderful than a lifetime of nothing special.” You, my dearest, are my thirty minutes. And counting.
I am grateful for every darkened theater and tear-soaked kleenex, holding hands and making goo-goo eyes while the likes of Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth are splashed across the screen, dancing all alone in a crowded room; I love that that scene moves you so. For these and every other moment I share with you I am indelibly stricken with the pleasure of knowing that you truly “complete me.”
What can I say that hasn’t been said? I shall brave an attempt…
You are comely, my fair one
And I am satisfied
As here
I rest
in our love;
You, the moon in my night sky,
You, the shore that welcomes my advances;
Absorbed, I become
One with you.
I am Aragorn and you are my Arwen:
(“Go to sleep.
I am asleep. This is a dream.
Then it is a good dream.”)
Rivendell has never seen the likes,
The shimmering delights;
Such serenity—
Tranquility,
Or daring romance!
With you I have traversed into uninhabitable wild,
Unfettered joy;
Thirty minutes of wonderful—
A child, waking up on Advent morn
To outdoor white and indoor peace.