2-17-09 unconditionally loved brain
Today, while we are still in the month of February.....back to a Valentines themed blog:
“How will I know it’s really love?”
“How will I know that he/she is the right person for me?”
I remember asking myself questions like that for about 20 years, between the ages of 16 to 35.
“Will I know by the romantic gifts and cards he gives?”
My experience has taught me the answer is No.
For example: This year Greg returned from his Chicago Car Show trip on Sunday and gave me a Valentines gift, this red Toyota bag. On the surface that probably doesn’t look like a very thoughtful gift- but it was, because it proves that Greg really knows me well. He knows I’m not into jewelry, or candy or such standard “love gifts”…. He knows me well and knows I like to recycle and that I try to use non-plastic or paper bags as much as possible. He also knows that currently I don’t really need any more stuff.
In return, I had a Valentines card waiting for him. What I didn’t tell him was that this was a “recycled card”. When I was cleaning out the desk drawer I found it, still in the original opened envelope with his name on it, from a few years ago. So I just resealed it with a rose stamp and waited for him to call me out on it, but he never did- yet. However, he will know now, since he does read my blog daily.
What I would like to share with my younger readers, who are still trying to find Mister Right or Miss Right, is a tip a discovered at age 35. (OK, so I'm a slow learner!)....I was on serious boyfriend #6 (disregarding the minor boyfriends between age16 to 35)….. This guy #6 was a great guy in many ways and we had a lot in common, however I never felt much of a strong commitment from him and I was wondering- “is there more to love, or is this as good as it gets?”
I found myself, that late winter of 1990, watching the Civil War documentary on PBS and when I heard this song/letter (The Sullivan Ballou Letter) it gave me goose bumps and I could feel the love between these two people and I knew THIS is what I was longing for, and I knew that serious boyfriend #6 was NOT “it”…..
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7aj7Qh1Uu3w
I’m not saying that Mister Right or Miss Right needs write you a poetic letter such as this, but your "true love" will have these intense feelings for you, which are exemplified well in the tone of this letter, as you also should have these intense emotions in return for him/her.
PS: I'll admit I do like flowers as a gift, but roses can make me a bit nervous. You see boyfriend #1 (referred to in blog 2-13-09) had sent me a dozen roses the week before he broke up with me. I never did figure out that irony!
For those of you who can not connected to Youtube, I included the words here of the Sullivan Ballou Letter:
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July 14, 1861
Camp Clark, Washington
My very dear Sarah:
The indications are very strong that we shall move in a few days—perhaps tomorrow. Lest I should not be able to write again, I feel impelled to write a few lines that may fall under your eye when I shall be no more . . .I have no misgivings about, or lack of confidence in the cause in which I am engaged, and my courage does not halt or falter. I know how strongly American Civilization now leans on the triumph of the Government and how great a debt we owe to those who went before us through the blood and sufferings of the Revolution. And I am willing—perfectly willing—to lay down all my joys in this life, to help maintain this Government, and to pay that debt . . .Sarah my love for you is deathless, it seems to bind me with mighty cables that nothing but Omnipotence could break; and yet my love of Country comes over me like a strong wind and bears me unresistibly on with all these chains to the battle field.The memories of the blissful moments I have spent with you come creeping over me, and I feel most gratified to God and to you that I have enjoyed them for so long. And hard it is for me to give them up and burn to ashes the hopes of future years, when, God willing, we might still have lived and loved together, and seen our sons grown up to honorable manhood, around us. I have, I know, but few and small claims upon Divine Providence, but something whispers to me—perhaps it is the wafted prayer of my little Edgar, that I shall return to my loved ones unharmed. If I do not my dear Sarah, never forget how much I love you, and when my last breath escapes me on the battle field, it will whisper your name. Forgive my many faults and the many pains I have caused you. How thoughtless and foolish I have often times been! How gladly would I wash out with my tears every little spot upon your happiness . . .But, O Sarah! If the dead can come back to this earth and flit unseen around those they loved, I shall always be near you; in the gladdest days and in the darkest nights . . . always, always, and if there be a soft breeze upon your cheek, it shall be my breath, as the cool air fans your throbbing temple, it shall be my spirit passing by. Sarah do not mourn me dead; think I am gone and wait for thee, for we shall meet again . . .
(Yes, he died a week later)
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