Butchblog

When my daughter, Jessie, asked me to write something about love for her wedding ceremony, my first thought was, man, that’s gonna be hard. My second thought was, “Wow, Jessie thinks I know something about love.” So, I tried my best to figure out how to put it into words. I may not know much about love, but what I do know, and learned the hard way, is that sometimes it takes lots of mistakes and wrong turns before you get where you want to be. Sure is sweet when you arrive, though.

There’s a line from an old movie that says, “Love is never having to say you’re sorry.”  Seems like bullshit to me. Everybody at the ceremony laughed out loud at this line. They got it. When you’re wrong, you need to say so, or else everything gets jammed up. You stop talking, stop telling the truth. Love is about being soft, not hard.

A word here about Jess’s wedding. It was a do-it-yourself  affair, held in the small mountain community’s volunteer fire department’s building. Friends and family made the food, brought the wine and flowers, the groom’s best bud performed the funky ceremony, Jess’s sister sang. It was the best wedding I ever attended. The younger folks stayed all night, dancing around a massive bonfire. Bev and I left before that—tired old folks.

But back to love. I’m not talking about love of chocolate cake (which I do) or of the Philadelphia Phillies (which I do when they’re having a good year). No, I mean love between two people. Love big enough and strong enough to last a life time. Not every marriage*, maybe not even most, make it that far. I failed in my first attempt. I blame it on being too young, neither of us knowing what we wanted out of the relationship, or knowing very much about each other. We tried and stuck together for a long time and raised two wonderful daughters, but eventually admitted that we had to part ways, or else be stuck in the same rut for the rest of our days. Not a terrible rut, just one that led nowhere. We were holding each other back. We were no longer ‘in love’ and maybe never had been. Both of us have flourished since the divorce in ways that we couldn’t have imagined.

            On my second try, I believe I am now a much better husband. Maybe because I’m older, maybe because both my wife, Bev, and I had much more experience of life and of our individual paths. We knew who we were, apart from another person, had our own histories and accomplishments and failures. I think you need that level of maturity to have a fully committed relationship. Of course, there are many situations where people marry their high-school sweethearts and stay married, and happily so, for 75 years. Good on them. Somehow, they found their soul mate first time around. Maybe others stay together because it’s too hard to separate, too scary. That’s okay too; everybody has their own story. No one gets to judge from the outside. What I have learned or observed is that a good partnership requires a shit-load of sacrifice. If you can’t do that, stay single. That can make a good life also. 

Partnership is about unconditional support and continual warmth—being there through happiness and hardship. Real love requires real respect. Compromise is not a dirty word. It’s required. If you want to call all the shots, become an umpire, just don’t get married.

            Love is both honest and kind. Love is making your partner laugh—and sometimes cry. It’s hard to learn how to be kind, especially if you haven’t had great models. But, believe me, it can be learned. And feels mighty good when you do, even carrying over into other aspects of one’s life.

            Love is about both sacrifice and fulfillment. Moments of pain and moments of joy and endless stretches of plain old everyday living.

            Love is a life well-lived and shared with your partner.

That’s mostly what I talked about at Jessie’s wedding.

*I’m using the term marriage interchangeably with partnership. I also make no distinction between legally sanctioned marriages and unconventional ones, nor between same-sex and opposite sex marriages.