In honor of St. Valentine's Day I have decided to blog about love. Not the now-she-loves-him-now-she-doesn't type of love, or the daisy-petal-pulling type either, but the best kind, the lasting, warts and all type :) Because yesterday I read a husband's tribute to his wife of fifty years and it really moved me. Not because of how perfect he said she was, but because of how much he loved her for/despite her own particular quirks.
Such as, accidentally destroying his expensive razor and then managing to put the blame on innocent him anyway. That really tickled me, and reminded me of a story I just have to tell here: My friend's mom was one of 12 children. One day, their father told them not to play with his electric razor, but the littlest one did, and he noticed. He interrogated them all, but no-one would tattle, so he lined them all up and spanked them in descending age order. When he finally got to the last one he decided she was 'too little' to be punished, and let her off! I'm so against corporal punishment but the story still tickles me. Anyway.
Such as, accidentally destroying his expensive razor and then managing to put the blame on innocent him anyway. That really tickled me, and reminded me of a story I just have to tell here: My friend's mom was one of 12 children. One day, their father told them not to play with his electric razor, but the littlest one did, and he noticed. He interrogated them all, but no-one would tattle, so he lined them all up and spanked them in descending age order. When he finally got to the last one he decided she was 'too little' to be punished, and let her off! I'm so against corporal punishment but the story still tickles me. Anyway.
This was the article:www.dailymail.co.uk/
While the first few paragraphs are very sad, the rest is less about death and more about life. My favorite part summarizes it: "People who have been married for more than 50 years, like Diana and I were, are given to making remarks like: ‘We never had a cross word.’ To which I can only ask: What kind of a marriage was that? The only person I could imagine living with for any length of time without a cross word would be someone for whom I felt total indifference. Diana and I had many a cross word, because we disagreed frequently, and I loved her to death and beyond."
Indeed. While I'm not advocating quarreling, it was so touching to hear someone not try to put a gloss on love, because it doesn't need it. This was really brought home to me last week when I managed to get a ticket to King Lear, telecast live from the Donmar Theatre in London to movie theaters all over the UK. When I say 'managed' I mean 'worked hard,' since the one-time showing was sold out days in advance: First, there was the discussion with my classmate about who should get the last ticket (her, since she wanted it more); then, the consultation with the movie theater staff about whether they had any extra places, such as standing room or their two broken seats; then there was the consideration of whether to accept their offer of letting me book one of their designated wheelchair spaces, with a regular chair brought in (which I decided to defer until the last minute in case any real wheelchairs showed up, and one did); and finally there was the coming in again an hour before the show to see if there were any returned tickets or cancellations (no there weren't), free seats (no, they were all locked out now on the computer), or any other possibilities at all. And the end result was two remaining emergency house seats, that opened up once the movie doors did, with the manager very kindly coming down and overriding the 'locked' screen to sell me one. It is always nice when sometimes my being stubborn, I mean persistent, works in my favor.
Jacobi et al's King Lear was mind-blowing throughout, but one scene that most impacted me was the first, with Cordelia's quandary over how to explain to her father that she sincerely loves him, without embellishing her feelings: "Then poor Cordelia! And yet not so; since I am sure my love's more richer than my tongue....Unhappy that I am, I cannot heave my heart into my mouth. I love your Majesty according to my bond."
In King Lear (and Sonnet 116), Shakespeare got it dead right. When you really love someone, in my experience, you don't constantly or even often praise them (unless they are a very very young person, in which case, you praise where it's due like crazy!); your actions show it more than words can; it's understood. By spending time on/with someone you care about, you obviously wholeheartedly approve of them, whether you agree or not on the small stuff (such as razor responsibilities).
Today, love's timelessness was further rubbed in by the research/field trip my classmates and I took to Worcester Cathedral, which took five hundred years to build, and is featuring 'love themed tours' this week. I'm not joking; we didn't time our trip for it, and anyway we had our own historical-themed tour guide, but I did look over the leaflet out of curiosity to see how they would pitch the 'love' theme, being surrounded at that point by mainly a lot of stone and kingly tombs. As we moved around the space, though, the Cathedral fundraisers' seemingly incongruous idea started to make sense to me, in the words of one wise W.S. www.famous-quotes.net/Quote.aspx?Love_is_not_love_that_alters_when_alteration_finds
First, there were the marriage records, which listed couples, including the Shakespeares, who were so keen to be married in the few months in between the official 'banns season' that they got special licenses from the bishop. (I have to add here, that while most people believe Shakespeare's hasty wedding was because the bride was already pregnant, actually the previous year her father had given her a recorded 'wedding gift'; so it's likely they'd earlier had an unrecorded 'troth plight', socially accepted but not formal enough to legalize children.) Anyway, the rows and rows of handwritten entries definitely admitted no impediments, to the marriage of true minds.
Then there were the epitaphs, to relatives of every age and type, including one to a woman who was praised as the best wife and daughter, known for her 'sweet and pleasing disposition and charitable work.' She was obviously 100% beloved, but I highly doubt she was 100% pleasant -- otherwise, why would Shakespeare write "It is an ever-fixed mark that looks on tempests and is never shaken" ? Or as Marilyn Monroe said, "I'm selfish, impatient and a little insecure. I make mistakes, I am out of control and at times hard to handle. But if you can't handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don't deserve me at my best."
Next there was the 'Worcester Pilgrim' who was found buried with his pilgrimage boots on. Apparently this was by his special request, since they had been specially split to fit (back) on his feet. By modern testing they've figured out he was 5'7" in height, well-built, and must have walked miles on pilgrimage in his shoes.."Love...is the star to every wandering bark, whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken."
And there were the stained glass windows, with engraven tributes from family and comrades to the Worcestershire soldiers who laid down their lives during the Great War, including one who was just two months shy of his 18th birthday...."Love's not time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks within his bending sickle's compass come..."
And finally there were the tombs, with stone effigies of spouses lying side by side for eternity (in all but rare cases, I miss those days when marriage was forever). One had a couple lying with their heads supported by black swans; apparently the legend is that the man had gone on the Crusades and been imprisoned, and a swan had then flown him home to his family, so they could unchain him. And thus the family emblem became a white swan. The story also goes that the tomb's swans were once white, but during a time of unrest they were deemed too recognizable. Instead of being removed, the symbols of fidelity were painted black to protect the couple from defacement... "Love..bears it out even to the edge of doom."
Valentine's Day may mark a time-honored tradition of celebrating love, but I also have a friend who refuses to observe it, because she feels that to highlight one day over another would dishonor the year-round nature of her relationship. It may make room for cut flowers and elbow grease, but love alters not with time's brief hours and weeks.
While the first few paragraphs are very sad, the rest is less about death and more about life. My favorite part summarizes it: "People who have been married for more than 50 years, like Diana and I were, are given to making remarks like: ‘We never had a cross word.’ To which I can only ask: What kind of a marriage was that? The only person I could imagine living with for any length of time without a cross word would be someone for whom I felt total indifference. Diana and I had many a cross word, because we disagreed frequently, and I loved her to death and beyond."
Indeed. While I'm not advocating quarreling, it was so touching to hear someone not try to put a gloss on love, because it doesn't need it. This was really brought home to me last week when I managed to get a ticket to King Lear, telecast live from the Donmar Theatre in London to movie theaters all over the UK. When I say 'managed' I mean 'worked hard,' since the one-time showing was sold out days in advance: First, there was the discussion with my classmate about who should get the last ticket (her, since she wanted it more); then, the consultation with the movie theater staff about whether they had any extra places, such as standing room or their two broken seats; then there was the consideration of whether to accept their offer of letting me book one of their designated wheelchair spaces, with a regular chair brought in (which I decided to defer until the last minute in case any real wheelchairs showed up, and one did); and finally there was the coming in again an hour before the show to see if there were any returned tickets or cancellations (no there weren't), free seats (no, they were all locked out now on the computer), or any other possibilities at all. And the end result was two remaining emergency house seats, that opened up once the movie doors did, with the manager very kindly coming down and overriding the 'locked' screen to sell me one. It is always nice when sometimes my being stubborn, I mean persistent, works in my favor.
Jacobi et al's King Lear was mind-blowing throughout, but one scene that most impacted me was the first, with Cordelia's quandary over how to explain to her father that she sincerely loves him, without embellishing her feelings: "Then poor Cordelia! And yet not so; since I am sure my love's more richer than my tongue....Unhappy that I am, I cannot heave my heart into my mouth. I love your Majesty according to my bond."
In King Lear (and Sonnet 116), Shakespeare got it dead right. When you really love someone, in my experience, you don't constantly or even often praise them (unless they are a very very young person, in which case, you praise where it's due like crazy!); your actions show it more than words can; it's understood. By spending time on/with someone you care about, you obviously wholeheartedly approve of them, whether you agree or not on the small stuff (such as razor responsibilities).
Today, love's timelessness was further rubbed in by the research/field trip my classmates and I took to Worcester Cathedral, which took five hundred years to build, and is featuring 'love themed tours' this week. I'm not joking; we didn't time our trip for it, and anyway we had our own historical-themed tour guide, but I did look over the leaflet out of curiosity to see how they would pitch the 'love' theme, being surrounded at that point by mainly a lot of stone and kingly tombs. As we moved around the space, though, the Cathedral fundraisers' seemingly incongruous idea started to make sense to me, in the words of one wise W.S. www.famous-quotes.net/Quote.aspx?Love_is_not_love_that_alters_when_alteration_finds
First, there were the marriage records, which listed couples, including the Shakespeares, who were so keen to be married in the few months in between the official 'banns season' that they got special licenses from the bishop. (I have to add here, that while most people believe Shakespeare's hasty wedding was because the bride was already pregnant, actually the previous year her father had given her a recorded 'wedding gift'; so it's likely they'd earlier had an unrecorded 'troth plight', socially accepted but not formal enough to legalize children.) Anyway, the rows and rows of handwritten entries definitely admitted no impediments, to the marriage of true minds.
Then there were the epitaphs, to relatives of every age and type, including one to a woman who was praised as the best wife and daughter, known for her 'sweet and pleasing disposition and charitable work.' She was obviously 100% beloved, but I highly doubt she was 100% pleasant -- otherwise, why would Shakespeare write "It is an ever-fixed mark that looks on tempests and is never shaken" ? Or as Marilyn Monroe said, "I'm selfish, impatient and a little insecure. I make mistakes, I am out of control and at times hard to handle. But if you can't handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don't deserve me at my best."
Next there was the 'Worcester Pilgrim' who was found buried with his pilgrimage boots on. Apparently this was by his special request, since they had been specially split to fit (back) on his feet. By modern testing they've figured out he was 5'7" in height, well-built, and must have walked miles on pilgrimage in his shoes.."Love...is the star to every wandering bark, whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken."
And there were the stained glass windows, with engraven tributes from family and comrades to the Worcestershire soldiers who laid down their lives during the Great War, including one who was just two months shy of his 18th birthday...."Love's not time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks within his bending sickle's compass come..."
And finally there were the tombs, with stone effigies of spouses lying side by side for eternity (in all but rare cases, I miss those days when marriage was forever). One had a couple lying with their heads supported by black swans; apparently the legend is that the man had gone on the Crusades and been imprisoned, and a swan had then flown him home to his family, so they could unchain him. And thus the family emblem became a white swan. The story also goes that the tomb's swans were once white, but during a time of unrest they were deemed too recognizable. Instead of being removed, the symbols of fidelity were painted black to protect the couple from defacement... "Love..bears it out even to the edge of doom."
Valentine's Day may mark a time-honored tradition of celebrating love, but I also have a friend who refuses to observe it, because she feels that to highlight one day over another would dishonor the year-round nature of her relationship. It may make room for cut flowers and elbow grease, but love alters not with time's brief hours and weeks.
No comments:
Post a Comment