Today I played cello for a memorial service honoring a woman who passed away at 87. For 65 of those years, she had been married to an incredibly loving and faithful husband who took care of her throughout her 45-year challenge of Huntington’s Disease. I was amazed at their love and commitment not only to themselves but also being a blessing to others.
It made me rethink what I consider “true” love. While I’m unsure what I fully consider true love, I know what it isn’t. I’m hesitant to call the love popularized by TV/movies/pop music true love because it makes for good entertainment but feels hollow and artificial (just take a look at the erratic love lives of some singers/actors). I’m also reluctant to say that I’ve ever felt it; I won’t claim to even begin to understand it until I’ve proven myself capable of it with a long-lasting marriage.
I do know one thing: if I can have even half the 65-year relationship that the couple maintained I’m doing something right.