UNDER THE MICROSCOPE

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2003-01-15 - 8:19 p.m.

Writing a journal means never knowing where inspiration will come from. Today, on a prison visit, I overheard one guard complaining to another about something that was put in the wrong place. �Oh,� said the male guard flirtateously and with a wink. �But love means never having to say you�re sorry.�

SORRY

Once upon a time, long before many of my readers were born (sigh), the novel Love Story was all the rage. The key quote from the book, �Love means never having to say you�re sorry� was plastered on book jackets, posters, and even a bumper sticker. Baloney! I didn�t believe it then and I don�t believe it now. Love thrives on �I�m sorry,� �thank you,� and �please.� Love survives best in kindness and courtesy. Ultimately, love lives and breathes not in how we feel but in what we do.

Rarely, if ever, have I been accused of being a romantic. I don�t seek proof of love in flowers or candy (although I�m unlikely to turn down very nice chocolate.) I don�t crave the bid date on Valentine�s Day or mood music and candles. I find love in the vitamin Marn�s husband places at her place each morning and in the laundry Mr. Philately folds for me while I help Day-Hay with her homework.

Love is helping build bridges for others so they can cross the river to their dreams without having to worry about keeping their feet dry. The strength of my marriage is built on my decision to ferry children all over town by myself so that Mr. Philately can felax at a stamp show. It also is built on his decision to take over child care, including braiding Day-Hay�s hair, so that I can teach at a seminar I helped design.

Marriage is never a union of perfect people and it is never a perfect fit. Two people living together for year after year will rub up against each other and cause blisters from time to time. One will move more quickly than the other or step aside for a moment, turning the ties that bind into a potential noose. Love cannot mean never hurting another. It�s not possible. We trip, we fall, and the sudden falter can cause a pile up and flaring tempers.

But hurts require recognition and atonement or the other person begins to feel invisible. Assumptions that the other will understand isolate and overlook. If I don�t say I�m sorry, or at least show it in my actions, how does Mr. Philately know that I�ve noticed? Failing to say sorry is taking for granted and it�s a small step from overlooking to indifference. The opposite of love is not hate; it is indifference.

Besides, love consists of acts that make visible. Love is the gentle brush against my back as I help out at play pracice that silently says, �I see you and I�m glad you�re here.� It is the quick glance across the room saying, �we are in this together,� that comes in a crisis. It is saying, �I see you� in myriad ways from his placing my errant keys next to my purse and my calling his voicemail to remind him of an appointment he didn�t want to forget. It is keeping someone from the desperation that cause them to yell out in action or word, �Attention must be paid.�

I�ve spent the last eighteen years of marriage and almost twenty-two years of my life doing laundry, cooking (occasionally), sharing ideas (much more often), and supporting dreams. So has Mr. Philately. But we�ve also spent those years giving each other the words that say that we appreciate and see: �thank you,� �please,� and yes, �I�m sorry.�

And I�m not sorry about it at all.

LAST YEAR: Thinking Outside the Box

LAST FIVE ENTRIES:

Where�s the Snow?
Everything�s Going My Way
In the Dumps
Blame It On...
The Answer to Clarence

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