Enduring love

... is a great novel and in part the inspiration for this post. It's been on my mind since, ages ago, I posted on my wall over at the Book of Face that I 'loved being in love'. People I don't know at all (well except on FB but people I have never actually met just joined up with in a group or whatever and they really would have no idea about my relationships or personal life) liked it, and people who know me really well (like nieces, daughters etc) also liked it. There seemed a conspicuous silence from those 'long time' friends I've reconnected with in the world of virtual networking. Now I'm not so narcissistic as to expect everyone to comment on my every post. In fact most of my mundane or even the subjectively extraordinary status updates draw little comment. But I did get to thinking - "I wonder how I would react if I saw this in one of my long-time friends' status box."

It seems a bit of an indictment on my expectations of relationships that I can so easily slip into scepticism. I think if I did read that about someone else my first unbidden reaction would be along the lines of "who with?" (or "with whom?" if I was in a grammatical frame of mind). I would be timid about responding because I would be wondering if a marriage/relationship had ended/ if the person was engaged in a racy affair/ if there was some gossip I hadn't been privy to.

On a regular basis I feel moved when I see signs of that deep kind of love between two people that has grown and deepened over 30/40/50 years. Recently I met a couple who had celebrated their 60th wedding anniversary. Churches do seem to be a place I see this kind of love - although not the only place - inspiring people who somehow live the phrase 'enduring love'

It was the protagonist couple who most caught my imagination in MacEwan's novel of the same name. How quick the wife was to leap to the conclusion that her now-deceased husband was with another woman in the hours preceding his death. How irritated she was by his altruism, and his persistence, that made no difference to the outcome for the child in the runaway balloon, but which deprived her of his presence. How remorseful when she learned the surprising truth of his meandering country drive that fateful afternoon. How easily I can be like her.

And in case there's any doubt I love being in love with the wonderful man who first mowed my lawn 23 years ago and who has shared my life ever since. Enduring isn't quite the right adjective; it seems to imply hardship or difficulty or something along those lines. I prefer a movie title from a little more recently 'Love Actually'