
[av_one_full first min_height=” vertical_alignment=” space=” custom_margin=” margin=’0px’ padding=’0px’ border=” border_color=” radius=’0px’ background_color=” src=” background_position=’top left’ background_repeat=’no-repeat’ animation=”]
[av_heading heading=’Also, Love (Part 8)’ tag=’h3′ style=’blockquote modern-quote’ size=’30’ subheading_active=’subheading_below’ subheading_size=’18’ padding=’10’ color=” custom_font=” av-medium-font-size-title=” av-small-font-size-title=” av-mini-font-size-title=” av-medium-font-size=” av-small-font-size=” av-mini-font-size=” admin_preview_bg=”]
BY PETER SOLIS NERY
[/av_heading]
[av_textblock size=” font_color=” color=” av-medium-font-size=” av-small-font-size=” av-mini-font-size=” admin_preview_bg=”]
February 16, 2018
[/av_textblock]
[av_textblock size=’18’ font_color=” color=” av-medium-font-size=” av-small-font-size=” av-mini-font-size=” admin_preview_bg=”]
MY LIFE with R was enviable. Whatever I liked, he gave me. Whatever I wanted, came to be. And how can I not learn to love him, if I believed with all my heart that Love begets love?
Understandably, there were those who doubted my love, and speculated that I was just after his money. But what is love really?
If I were the short cashew tree, but I gave all the love that I could give — Is my love lesser, shallower, than the love of an older and taller cashew tree, who is giving only the scarps of love he has left in him — leftover love, from his many years on the planet? Love in his autumn years?
I remember the poor widow in the Bible. She, who gave her measly two cents. Of her, the Lord Jesus said, she gave more to the temple than the rich who gave sacksful of silver.
I know the widow’s feelings. I totally identify with her.
This is what others do not see: That I offered and surrendered to R my youth, my beauty, my charms; my wit and intelligence; my time; and my clumsy attempts, maybe, but sincere efforts, at loving. I gave him my whole being!
Others do not see that he, who was already 60 years old when we first met, was the one I chose over Vincent (32 years old), or Zach (28), or Richard (25), and whoever else was young and lost who was flirting with me at that time; or over Tom Cruise, Brad Pitt, and Ashton Kutcher, who were my dream lovers. I chose him over a happy and carefree single blessedness and independence, which I really had gotten used to at 37.
Why couldn’t others see how enviable R’s life was with me? Is it possible that these people were the materialistic ones who only saw R’s money? I had money, too! I was a diligent nurse!
But this is true: Early on in our relationship, I warned R, “Sweetheart, I love you very much, and I would like you to live life to the fullest. I want you to enjoy everything while we are together. So, whatever little wealth you have, let us spend it all in pleasure, in living a totally charmed life. Because if you are a tightwad, if you are going to be stingy with money, you’re just going to die and leave it to me anyway. And I will, most likely, just spend it on other men.”
It is also true that I wanted to give him a life that was full of pleasure. And I loved him in this particular way: I rescued him from crankiness, laziness, senility, miserliness, and deep sadness. I gave him a new life! And what could be a deeper, bigger, and truer love than that?
There are loves that give you the nervous giggle, the panic attacks, the restlessness and breathlessness. I didn’t feel any of that for R, but it doesn’t mean that I didn’t love him enough. I loved him in all the ways, and the only ways, that I knew how. I gave him all that I was capable of giving — the widow’s two cents, and more. (To be continued/PN)
[/av_textblock]
[/av_one_full]






