L'AMOUR

We were hanging out by the fire pit, watching fireflies mingle with smoke and stars.

Nineteen year old - falling in love - inquired:  "Do you still feel like you did when you were nineteen?" 

Daughter's friend was asking if I still felt starry-eyed and romantic. Spontaneous and silly. Happy. Full-of-life, promise, hope. Certain that if I worked really hard - and loved with abandon - all would be right with the world.

My world.

Dear Reader, you've just met my 19-yr-old self.

My 40-something-self considered the question. Paused.  Hemmed. Hawed.

I looked across the blazing fire at this young man and saw First Love illuminating his face with a radiance that glowed far more brightly than Full Moon climbing navy-blue Summer Sky.  

Rotten timing for a lesson on love. He deserved to treasure this blissful life phase of his life. So I caved. 

"Of course I still feel like I did when I was 19!" I answered. "I still feel like I did when I was 29. And I know 80-year-olds who feel like they're 40, except  their knees don't work, and they can't eat buttered popcorn."

As my dear 80+ Uncle George always warns, "Tempus fugit. Cum Hades."

Interestingly, the question was popped on the eve of my 20th Wedding Anniversary. 

Twenty years. More than a lifetime for Daughter and Friend.  

The blink of an eye for Yours Truly.  

Tempus fugit cum Hades.

It's inevitable - on important days of remembrance and celebration - to rewind and consider the you of way back when.

Sure. I recognize 19-year-old me. I remember what it was like to dream her dreams.  To feel her passion and joy when  she loved with abandon. To ache and mourn when her love was shelved, and thoughts of forever turned to, "Why love, if it ultimately means loss?" 

Truth is, that girl had no idea how love would change her.

At nineteen, love was picnic baskets and teddy bears. Scribbled notes tucked under windshield wipers. Wine sipped from Dixie cups, and dreams imagined beside a bonfire on the beach.

A Best of Times.  Love, the understudy, waited patiently in the wings as featured star, Romance, charmed and delighted her audience.

You know the tale. Understudy steps into featured role and Romantic Comedy becomes Drama.

And Love -all substance - rolls her eyes at Romance - all fluff.  Because Love understands she must rise above Heartbreak. Conflict and Disappointment. Exhaustion. Loss.

Good-old Romance bolts at the first sight of them.

Twenty years ago, a beautiful bearded boy asked that I take his hand and walk through life's journey with him.

Our love has not always been patient and kind. We have most certainly taken into account a whole lot of wrongs suffered. On our blessed journey, we have walked, skipped, tip-toed, run, crawled, dashed, trudged. Far too many times we have been stopped in our tracks. We have fallen, or been carried - one by the other.

But through it all, our hands remain clenched. Our hearts fastened.

That girl who so long ago confused romance with love, is grateful to be a woman who knows that love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things.

Enduring all things, love never fails.

QUING Hereby Decrees:  Happy Anniversary to my Beautiful Bearded Boy!