True love

A republished article from The Long Island Catholic

Once upon a time, I was a columnist for the largest Catholic diocesan paper in the country. It was a weekly paper and I shared column space with my dear friend Alice, we alternated weeks. Eventually, the paper was discontinued, which was a foolish decision to my mind - but no one asked me.

Those columns, fifteen or so years worth, have not been archived anywhere online of which I am aware, so I thought I would republish one every so often in this space in an effort to keep some of the better ones out there. I thank you for your indulgence.

This was published on March 2, 2011; mom passed away on October 29, 2011.

Hollywood has promoted this idea of true love that belies the meaning of the term. The end of the story usually is the guy getting the girl or the girl getting the guy and we fade away from a romantic scene that leaves the viewer with a cozy “happily ever after” feeling. There is also the big splash when two celebrities get married. It’s a pretty rare occurrence that they even bother so the papers and gossip magazines have a field day reporting the details of the wedding and creating the idea that the couple is headed toward unrelenting bliss simply by virtue of the fact that they are better looking and have more money than the rest of us.

Don’t buy it.

Let me tell you a real love story. A couple has been married forty years. They’ve worked hard and done right by their children. They have managed to achieve a modest financial security and decide to retire to a warmer climate in an area that is less of a strain for people living on a fixed income. They have a slew of grandchildren they love to death and they console themselves about the distance they are putting between them by buying a bigger house with lots of room for visitors. They speak of hosting grandkids for the summers since they live near the beach and lots of historic sites. They settle in and make lots of friends. They have some relatives nearby and life is comfortable and happy. For the first time this gentleman has time to volunteer and becomes a regular at Knights of Columbus meetings and his parish’s right to life group. He is surprised that his wife is content to sit in the house all day but chalks it up to the big adjustment to the move.

Suddenly his wife is behaving oddly. She is belligerent and difficult, she argues over the silly things and withdraws into silence often. Then she begins to forget, little things at first, where are the keys, paying a bill, meeting a friend but very soon it’s the big things; the pot on the stove; the days of the week; the names of new friends; and the voices of her family on the phone. Several doctor visits and tests later the diagnosis is devastating. Senile dementia. She’s sixty-two years old.

Mom and Dad’s engagement photo - 1964

Two years later the lady has lost the ability to communicate. She has very little control over her body and she walks with a stilted gait leaning on walls and her husband. She is content to sit looking at a book or magazine, the same page all day. She still enjoys humming along to a tune and occasionally will sing a line but she can’t answer questions or articulate a thought. She can no longer be left alone, even for a few minutes since she often tries to leave the house. New locks are installed and the easy retirement the man envisioned is now a remote dream. His days are full of caring for his wife.

Those people are my parents.

I always knew they loved each other, they made no secret of it. Even during hard times, and every marriage has them, they worked through it because they simply could not imagine life without each other. My dad still feels that way. He has been called to one of the most difficult tasks a spouse can face, the slow, relentless deterioration of his beloved. His loving care for my mother is not ever going to be a Hollywood love story. It’s too gritty, it’s too real. There is total and complete sacrifice going on in that house and it isn’t romantic in the secular sense of the world. It is however, what God intended for marriage. God did not design marriage to give us perfect happiness, life-long romance and a conflict free life. Your spouse is not put on this earth to fulfill you and if you go into it expecting that you are destined to disappointment. Marriage is actually an opportunity to serve. As Christ loved His church so a husband is called upon to love his wife she is in turn expected to return this love and submit to his authority. That drives the feminists nuts but it is actually a call to serve in a sacrificial way; to love so completely that you trust that your husband will provide for all of your needs as God provides for His church.

My dad is living this love story. The love story that God intended. The love that Hollywood will never understand because it leaves out the key component, God. My dad loves my mom, the woman she was and the woman she is now, and, when it gets hard or sad he just loves more. To watch this is incredibly painful and incredibly beautiful. My own husband and I see this greatest of love stories unfold and often speak of how blessed we are to have such example in our lives. My mom used to joke with me that I married a younger version of my father. I can’t tell you how I now cherish that because a girl could not do better.