The Best Kind of Love

I have a friend who is falling in love. She honestly claims the sky is bluer. Mozart moves her to tears. She has lost 15 pounds and looks like a cover girl.

“I’m young again!” she shouts exuberantly.

As my friend raves on about her new love, I’ve taken a good look at my old one. My husband of almost 20 years, Scott, has gained 15 pounds. Once a marathon runner, he now runs only down hospital halls. His hairline is receding and his body shows the signs of long working hours and too many candy bars. Yet he can still give me a certain look across a restaurant table and I want to ask for the check and head home.

When my friend asked me “What will make this love last?” I ran through all the obvious reasons: commitment, shared interests, unselfishness, physical attraction, communication. Yet there’s more. We still have fun. Spontaneous good times. Yesterday, after slipping the rubber band off the rolled up newspaper, Scott flipped it playfully at me: this led to an all-out war. Last Saturday at the grocery, we split the list and raced each other to see who could make it to the checkout first. Even washing dishes can be a blast. We enjoy simply being together.

And there are surprises. One time I came home to find a note on the front door that led me to another note, then another, until I reached the walk-in closet. I opened the door to find Scott holding a “pot of gold” (my cooking kettle) and the “treasure” of a gift package. Sometimes I leave him notes on the mirror and little presents under his pillow.

There is understanding. I understand why he must play basketball with the guys. And he understands why, once a year, I must get away from the house, the kids - and even him - to meet my sisters for a few days of nonstop talking and laughing.

There is sharing. Not only do we share household worries and parental burdens - we also share ideas. Scott came home from a convention last month and presented me with a thick historical novel. Though he prefers thrillers and science fiction, he had read the novel on the plane. He touched my heart when he explained it was because he wanted to be able to exchange ideas about the book after I’d read it.

There is forgiveness. When I’m embarrasssingly loud and crazy at parties, Scott forgives me. When he confessed losing some of our savings in the stock market, I gave him a hug and said, “It’s okay. It’s only money.”

There is sensitivity. Last week he walked through the door with that look that tells me it’s been a tough day. After he spent some time with the kids, I asked him what happened. He told me about a 60-year-old woman who’d had a stroke. He wept as he recalled the woman’s husband standing beside her bed, caressing her hand. How was he going to tell this husband of 40 years that his wife would probably never recover? I shed a few tears myself. Because of the medical crisis. Because there were still people who have been married 40 years. Because my husband is still moved and concerned after years of hospital rooms and dying patients.

There is faith. Last Tuesday a friend came over and confessed her fear that her husband is losing his courageous battle with cancer. On Wednesday I went to lunch with a friend who is struggling to reshape her life after divorce. On Thursday a neighbor called to talk about the frightening effects of Alzheimer’s disease on her father-in-law’s personality. On Friday a childhood friend called long-distance to tell me her father had died. I hung up the phone and thought, this is too much heartache for one week. Through my tears, as I went out to run some errands, I noticed the boisterous orange blossoms of the gladiolus outside my window. I heard the delighted laughter of my son and his friend as they played. I caught sight of a wedding party emerging from a neighbor’s house. The bride, dressed in satin and lace, tossed her bouquet to her cheering friends. That night, I told my husband about these events. We helped each other acknowledge the cycles of life and that the joys counter the sorrows. It was enough to keep us going.

Finally, there is knowing. I know Scott will throw his laundry just shy of the hamper every night; he’ll be late to most appointments and eat the last chocolate in the box. He knows that I sleep with a pillow over my head; I’ll lock us out of the house at a regular basis, and I will also eat the last chocolate.

I guess our love lasts because it is comfortable. No, the sky is not bluer: it’s just a familiar hue. We don’t feel particularly young: we’ve experienced too much that has contributed to our growth and wisdom, taking its toll on our bodies, and created our memories.

I hope we’ve got what it takes to make our love last. As a bride, I had Scott’s wedding band engraved with Robert Browning’s line “Grow old along with me!” We’re following those instructions.

“If anything is real, the heart will make it plain.”

我的一位朋友正在熱戀。她坦稱天空比以前更藍(lán)了，莫扎特的音樂讓她落淚。她體重降了十五磅，看上去就像一個封面女郎。

“我又年輕啦!”她激動地大喊。

當(dāng)我的朋友幸福地大談特談她的新歡時，我對我的舊愛細(xì)細(xì)審視了一遍。和我共度了將近二十年的丈夫斯科特體重增了十五磅。從前的馬拉松運(yùn)動員，如今只能在醫(yī)院的大廳里跑來跑去的。他前額的頭發(fā)越來越少，從體型能看出他長時間工作并且糖塊吃得太多。但他仍能隔著餐館的桌子，用眼神向我發(fā)出某種暗示，然后我會立即結(jié)賬，一起回家。

當(dāng)朋友問我“是什么讓我們的愛情持續(xù)”時，我的腦海里立刻浮現(xiàn)出所有那些顯而易見的答案：承諾、共同愛好、無私奉獻(xiàn)、身體吸引、溝通交，還有很多。我們?nèi)匀粨碛袠啡ぃ切╇S意而來的美好時光。昨天，解開捆報(bào)紙的橡皮筋后，斯科特開玩笑地彈了我一下，隨即引發(fā)了一場全面的“戰(zhàn)爭”。上周六在雜貨店，我們分開購物，比賽誰先買好東西到結(jié)賬處。甚至洗碗也能大鬧一下。我們只是享受簡單的共處。

另外還有驚喜。一天我回到家，看到前門上貼著一張便條，它把我引向另一張便條，然后是另一張，一直把我引到家里可進(jìn)入的壁櫥。我打開壁櫥門，發(fā)現(xiàn)斯科特站在里面，一手拿著“金壺”(我的蒸煮鍋)，一手拿著一包包裝精美的“寶物”。我有時也在鏡子上給他留便條，或把小禮物放在他的枕頭下。

還有理解。我理解他為什么一定要和伙伴們打籃球。他也理解我為什么每年都要找個機(jī)會離開家和孩子們(甚至他)幾天，同我的姐妹們沒完沒了地聊啊笑啊。

還有分享。我們不但分享家務(wù)瑣事和為人父母的責(zé)任，還有思想交流。斯科特上月去開會，回來后他送給我一本厚厚的歷史小說。雖然他更喜歡恐怖及科幻小說，他還是在飛機(jī)上將這本小說讀完。當(dāng)他解釋說是因?yàn)橄朐谖易x完后能與我交換心得時，我深受感動。

還有寬恕。當(dāng)我在聚會上讓人尷尬地喊叫瘋狂時，他原諒了我。當(dāng)他承認(rèn)在股市賠進(jìn)去我們的一些積蓄時，我擁抱著他說：“沒關(guān)系，不過是些錢罷了。”

還有敏感。上個星期當(dāng)他回來的時候，臉上的神情讓我感覺他這天過得很不好。他與孩子們玩了一會兒，之后我問他發(fā)生了什么事。他給我講述了一個六十歲老太太的事情。這個老太太得了中風(fēng)。回憶起老太太的丈夫站在她床邊、撫摸著她的手的情形，他情不自禁地流下了眼淚。他怎忍心告訴這個與她相伴四十年的丈夫他的妻子可能永遠(yuǎn)不會康復(fù)啊!我也不禁落淚。因?yàn)槟俏焕咸恢蔚牟∏椋驗(yàn)槿杂兴氖甑姆蚱蓿驗(yàn)榻?jīng)過數(shù)年的病房工作，整天面對垂死的病人，我的丈夫仍會感動，仍存憐憫。

還有信仰。上周二，一個朋友到家里來，向我傾訴她的丈夫正在流失和癌癥斗爭的勇氣。周三，我和一個朋友一起午餐――她正煩惱著在離婚之后如何重新梳理自己的生活。周四，一個鄰居告訴我老年癡呆癥在她岳父身上有著多么可怕的影響。周五，一個兒時的朋友打長途電話告訴我她的父親去世了。在我掛了電話之后，想：這個星期真是一個傷心的星期。哭過之后，我有事要出去一下。我注意到鮮艷奪目的橙色劍蘭正在我的窗外開放著。我聽到我的孩子和他們的朋友一起玩耍的嬉戲聲。我看到鄰居家正好在舉行著婚禮。新娘穿著綢緞和蕾絲的禮服，將花束拋向她歡呼的朋友。那晚，我告訴我的丈夫發(fā)生的這些事情。

最后，還有相互了解。我知道斯科特會把衣服扔得到處都是，然后晚上又面對滿地的東西臉紅;約會時他總是遲到，還會把盒子里最后一塊巧克力吃掉。他也知道我總是喜歡在頭上放著枕頭睡覺;把我們鎖在屋外是我的家常便飯，還有我也會把盒子里最后一塊巧克力吃掉。

我覺得我們的愛之所以能延續(xù)是因?yàn)樗軠剀啊．?dāng)然，我的天空并沒有變得更藍(lán)：它還是我熟悉的色彩。我們也不特別地感到年輕：我們經(jīng)歷得太多了。這讓我們成熟，帶來智慧，也在我們的身體上刻下印記，讓我們切身感受到痛苦，也創(chuàng)造了我們共同的回憶。

但愿我們都知道是什么讓我們的愛保持下來的。在我還是新娘的時候，斯科特給我的結(jié)婚戒指上面刻著羅伯特•勃朗寧的名言：“讓我們一起變老吧!”我們一直遵循著這些指導(dǎo)。

“如果任何事情都是真的，心里都會明白的。”