What is love anyway? It goes far beyond February
As we settle into a post-Valentine’s Day psyche, the holiday originally designed to honor courtly romance in the Middle Ages, I am thinking about this: What is love anyways?
It certainly isn’t the commercialism that pumped nearly $26 billion into the U.S. economy last V-Day. I love getting a good piece of jewelry or a dozen red roses as much as any short-term girlfriend or long-term wife. But give me a box of Godivas and I definitely feel courted — and adored. (Even though my husband eats most of them.)
Though, here’s the greatest gift
I could ever receive, well beyond the bling and the sweets that come our way on Feb. 14 — hearing “I love you” from someone I love. These words delivered by a husband of 36 years or from one of our grown sons, delivered by voice and not by text, swell my heart more than any gift, however pricey. (Well, I cannot say for sure how a red Porsche delivered on Valentine’s Day would make me feel.)
I have received a lot of necklaces and pieces of fancy lingerie, heartfelt Valentine’s Day gifts from stores and never worn. “I love you,” the three words no amount of money can buy, are the true heartfelt gifts that keep on giving and giving — as the power of that message hits us on the level of soul.
We feel the love of our beloved even when they are gone. I am bolstered by the enduring power of my parents’ love, a father who passed in 1986, a mother who followed 20 years later, every day. Their voices are real, from my mom, instructing me how to season her recipes for cabbage soup and brisket.
And my dad, oh my dad, how is it possible I can actually feel his hard, long hug, when we have not been in the same room for 38 years. This was a dad who sent his two daughters a dozen red roses every Valentine’s Day. Today, I am staring at the dozen red roses I’ve gotten every Valentine’s Day from the man I married on a snowy Chicago night in 1988.
I stare at their beauty, so richly red, not fully bloomed, and think how these two men who gave and give me so much love are lasting treasures, and how lucky I’ve been and am. For so many years
I loathed February because it is the month my father died, it was the cruelest of months. Over the years, on Valentine’s Day and beyond, I think not of enduring grief, but of how love is eternal.
I ask “what is love,” and after a long life, I do know the answer. Love is the act of showing and feeling an unwavering sense of deep caring and affection, so deep, soul-deep, inexplicably deep.
The Beatles got it right: “Can’t buy me love.” Consistently loving behavior is the greatest gift of all. Hey, I am a very appreciative gift-getter. I am wearing some favorite silver dangly earrings my husband got me for V-Day a decade or so ago. As stated above, I do adore roses.
Though February is cold, and holds dark memories of loss for some of us, the month is not cruel, it is a month when we listen to our hearts. Beyond being American Heart Month, when we focus on prevention of coronary disease, the ubiquitous hearts on Valentine’s Day do remind us of how, in so many ways, love is the force that makes us feel alive.
We are reminded that while we are thankful for the great stuff we get on Feb. 14, we can never get too much kindness, a long morning kiss, a random “I love you” from an adult child, a hard hug from a mom or dad.
Benjamin Disraeli wrote: “We were born for love. It is the principle of existence and its only end.” I have learned that this force at the core of existence does not just intensify on its own. Relationships must be kindled by a steady stream of loving behavior. We must accept that our marriages cannot always be a bonfire. Over time, we are fortunate if these unions become a warm and comforting pilot light that never goes out.
These are the arteries that lead to forever love far more than a Tiffany heart bestowed on Valentine’s Day — though, frankly, that would be a really cool gift (I have yet to receive). Intimacy is the heart of existence, and love is the heart of intimacy. We need to feel connected to other people in a primal and abiding way. Love makes us feel better, love makes us live longer, love makes us do the right thing.
Love is the fuel that gives us ongoing hope.
As for this more modern saying, “Love means never having to say you’re sorry,” this is clearly not true. Popularized in the 1970 film “Love Story,” based on the book by Erich Segal, Ryan O’Neal’s character Oliver professes this to his dying wife Jenny, played by Ali McGraw.
Saying “I’m sorry” and meaning “I’m sorry” does help love go the distance. Flowers and jewelry and chocolates sprinkled along the way each February certainly sweeten our hearts. Though saying and showing “I love you” are the real ticket to feeling our full humanity — until death do we part.