The Summer of 1986 - My Ultimate Lesson in Love - Part II

The Summer of 1986 – My Ultimate Lesson in Love – Part II

“Momma’s” lucidity, although virtually nonexistent, depended upon the day.  Each dawn brought surprises as to what she would remember.  Her long-term memory was much more reliable than her immediate recall.  Whereas she no longer knew my name and actually called me “Cousin,” she fondly remembered her beloved “Uncle Frank” who had to have been very kind to her.  To my grandfather considerable chagrin, she often regaled us with heartwarming stories of her favorite uncle.  My grandfather did not recall “Uncle Frank’s” character and lifestyle as favorably as did my grandmother.  Nonetheless, on one morning that summer, “Momma” had a most lucid couple of hours.  She called the attending nurse, my grandfather and me specifically by our names and told us what our relationship to her is.  She then looked at my grandfather and told him that she realized that she had become a tremendous burden to him.  For that, she was very sorry but she hoped that he knew how thankful she is.  She said further that she loved him and hoped that he loved her too.  He answered, “You ought to know that I love you. ‘Cause if I didn’t, I would have been gone a long time ago.”  Right then and there, in that simplistic exchange between two persons who had grade school educations but years of incalculable wisdom, I received my ultimate lesson in love.

As I sat on the porch adjoining the living room, I overheard this conversation.  Sitting on that porch underneath a chinaberry tree and overlooking a large soy bean field, I dreamt big dreams and saw grand visions.  I would let my mind wander above the clouds and see great distances into the future.  I resolved that the incapacities of my parents, impoverishment of my upbringing, geographical location of our house on the “wrong side of the tracks,” and any other adverse factor would not combine to defeat my creativity, ambition and drive to transcend my very humble beginnings.  Nevertheless, as I listened my grandparents’ conversation, I recognized how bless I had been to have them and their formidable Christian example.  Previous to that conversation, I admit that I had accepted uncritically Hollywood’s portrayal of love.  I expected to be the knight in shining armor who sweeps a beautiful maiden off her feet and flees to safety where we enjoy love forevermore.  Naturally, my thoughts include the heart throbbing scenes of love at first site and the eroticism and passion that accompany this mystical experience.  Single and not then in a relationship, I awaited the day when I would have my leading role.  Yet, as I listened to “Momma” and “Granddaddy,” I acknowledged that love means more than youth, passion, sex, and emotion.  Their brief dialogue taught me that genuine love requires an enduring commitment long after time sketches wrinkles into the once youthful and firm faces and reshapes the bodies of enflamed and neophyte lovers.  In fact, real love grows as the initial attractions fade.  Personal maturity and spiritual growth broaden and deepen the commitment that real love requires of a person as he or she cares for a spouse in very poor health.  Corresponding to the Christian love that my grandparents had shown previously to my cousins, siblings and me, their faithful and loyal love toward each other can only be characterized as truly remarkable.  At the time of their deaths of six months apart, they had been married for fifty-seven years; essentially once they joined themselves together as man and woman and then husband and wife, they were never apart.  The key to their longevity was their mutual understanding of marriage and love which is a matter of steadfast commitment instead of fleeting emotion and self-seeking physical instincts.  Their down-home, country, simplistic but significantly sincere conversation about love taught me that the most reliable, acceptable and reasonable definition of love is indeed found in 1 Corinthians 13, the great hymn of love.

Not surprisingly the heat of that July day melted the cool whip concept of love that I held previously.  Actually, as I recall, the first thirteen days of July in the summer of 1986 saw temperatures that exceeded an index of 105 degrees Fahrenheit.  It was so hot that candy melted immediately when taken out of refrigeration.  Nevertheless, I traveled to the homestead with the genuine intention of sharing the maximum love out of gratitude in my heart for my grandparents.  Once again, they blessed me beyond measure as they taught me the true meaning of love.  I shall always remember the summer of 1986 as the time in my life when I learned what love is.