When I look at all of these relationships collectively, there are some definite similarities. None of them were/are overtly outwardly affectionate. There’s not a lot of PDA going on. In fact, my maternal grandparents boasted about sleeping in separate beds for many years, while in the same breath and much to us kids’ chagrin, sharing stories of my Pap chasing my Gram around the bedroom!! Blech. But their love, devotion, and respect for one another were evident in just about everything they did.
I recall that same Pap always had his arm around my Gram in church. Every time we stood to sing, pray, or commune, his arm would be around her tiny little waist. Both my grandfathers opened doors for their ladies, offered handkerchiefs when needed, and found ways in their everyday actions to show my grandmothers their affection. They kissed occasionally, but just the most innocent of pecks. Their love for each other shown in their eyes, in their words, and in the way they looked out for each other. Only occasionally would extravagance play out in the form of a Hawaiian vacation or a coveted fur coat.
For my grandmothers’ part, their love was in the service to their men. They raised the children. Kept the houses. Cleaned, cooked, and supported their husbands in every way a traditional woman should. They were both strong-willed, intelligent women with careers, hobbies, and dreams of their own. But their love for my Paps bore out through their undying steadfastness and piety. These were proud and loyal women determined to love their men till death do them part, come what may. And they did. These were the men and women of the “Greatest Generation” and their love was humble, demure, proper, and meant to be shared behind closed doors.
My father and father-in-law, learned from those that came before them, but also respected a generation of much more independent women. My mom and mother-in-law both held full-time jobs outside of raising us hooligans. Some of the formalities and courtesies men from the previous generation bestowed upon their wives now seemed too ceremonial and stiff. Holding hands or walking with their arms around each other in public was much more common and acceptable. As “Baby Boomers”, theirs was a love rooted in providing security, working hard, and showing love through “things”. My family and my husband’s family were solidly rooted in the upper middle class and our dads liked to lavish our mom’s with unexpected (and sometimes expensive) gifts. They reaped the rewards of years of long hours and hard work.
Our moms took on the burden of career, child-raising, house-keeping, and supporting the demanding careers of our dads. Playing single parent for days or weeks at a time when one of our dad’s jobs demanded extra hours or extended travel was not unusual and added a new level of complexity to love and marriage. This was the first generation to publicly recognize marriage takes work, from both parties. Time needed to be carved out of life’s busy schedule to focus on one another; to communicate effectively; to understand the needs and desires of both parties. With the spotlight on women’s equality and increasing independence, some men resorted to more elaborate ways of expressing their love, whereas women sorted through the mixed emotions of craving the attention, while pretending to be indifferent or unimpressed.
Now both retired, empty nesters, and grandparents to several grandchildren, our parents are finding ways to reconnect on a different level. They see where they’ve come from and can appreciate all the other one has done to get them to where they are today. Trips exploring the country, encouraging new hobbies, showing compassion and care when health issues arise, and spending time with family are all sources of love between them. The comfortableness and security of their love is palpable.
For “Generation X’ers” like my husband and I, love has been a journey. It’s not always been easy and we are under no illusions when it comes to the amount of effort and commitment required. We’ve watched with heartache as many of our friends’ marriages break apart. Divorce rates are high for our demographic. Partly, I believe, because we were a generation raised to be independent, strong, and self-assured. We were the determiners of our own fate. We were solely responsible for our own happiness. Learning to share a life with someone else, trusting and depending on them…those were fairly foreign concepts. The vulnerability and openness a loving relationship required seemed unattainable, and quite frankly, unnecessary. In the absence of the true meaning of love, lust, desire, passion, fear and denial could all easily be mistaken for love. And if we couldn’t even recognize what love was, how could we possibly know how to show it? Should it be the quiet and discreet love known to our grandparents? Should it be the more expressive yet guarded love of our parents? Or can it be all of that and more?
Years ago, my husband gained a bit of a reputation for sending flowers to my office for no other reason than to remind me how much he loved me. There was no rhyme or reason as to how often the flowers came, but they were deliberately NOT associated with our anniversary or my birthday. They were sent, “just because.” And the gesture was not lost on me. I LOVED the sentiment and the attention it garnered.
Anytime flowers arrived, everyone in the office knew they were for me and they “ooohed” and “aaahed” over this latest display of his love. One day, one of my co-workers happened to be at my desk when a flower delivery arrived for me. As I proceeded to open it, she said, “Awww, he loves you. How…cute.” It wasn’t what she said, but how she said it. There was an obvious tone of condescension and sarcasm attached to her statement. As if to say I should hold on tight to him, because no one would ever love me like he does. And I didn’t deserve to be loved that much. And just wait until the “honeymoon” is over.
Fast forward to just last week…while at the company Christmas party, my husband gets up from the table to get us a round of drinks. He kisses me lightly and brushes my shoulder as he unwraps his arms from mine. Another guest at our table looks at me and says, “Wow, he REALLY loves you! “ And again, it wasn’t as much what she said, as how she said it. She had to wipe away tears as she tried to articulate the “vibe” we had with one another and how powerful our love was. She got all of that from a tender peck on the lips and the slightest of touches. Nothing spectacular. Nothing extraordinary. Just us being us.
After nearly 20 years, we have arrived at a place in our marriage, in our friendship, and in our love for each other that no longer requires outward and grandiose displays of affection, commentary or approval from others, or understanding from anyone other than ourselves. Don’t get me wrong…I’ll never turn away a bouquet or surprise concert tickets. But the best parts of our love are found amongst the everyday chaos and calamity. In the swirling winds of life’s confusion and commotion, love presents itself in the most mundane and ordinary ways. Making a cup of coffee. Brushing the snow off the car. Throwing in an extra load of laundry. A short, hand-written note. A quick snuggle before jumping out of bed to face whatever the day may hold. A heart-felt compliment. A lingering hug after a long day. Helping with homework. Fixing the toilet. Laughing at the absolute peculiarness of life.
Ours is a love found in the smallest and most nondescript moments. Because we’ve had such great examples to follow and because we work hard on not taking each other for granted, our love continues to evolve. We, by no means, have all the answers, but we are taking the lessons of those who have walked these paths before and we are building a bridge between them; connecting generations with a love that is deep, abiding, intentional, forgiving, and enduring.
So, what's our secret? There is no secret sauce or magic potion or perfect step-by-step guide to love and marriage. All it really takes is the desire to forever rediscover love together. Daily. Just like life, love is a journey, not a destination; full of adventure--ups, downs, and everything in between. But true love starts at forever and ends at never. Enjoy the ride!