Someone called last week to check on me, and said something about DH being "the love of your life". I think I'm glad that people thought that he was the love of my life, but he wasn't. Now that I've written that, it sounds different than I meant...and I must explain.
The "love of my life" was the man with whom I had a relationship before I met DH. He was twelve years my senior, and had recently lost his wife of more than forty years. He did not want his family to know about our relationship, probably because of the age difference and the fact that I had a professional association with his wife and children. We saw each other for more than a year, and then he broke my heart. I threw myself into a lot of other activities, and announced to my friends that I was open to blind dates.
I met DH as a result of one of these blind dates, and we knew almost immediately that we were supposed to be together (and married). I wasn't the love of his life, either. I think the love of his life was a woman that he should have married when he was in his early twenties, but events and choices led him down a different path. The path had some rocky patches, and took him some places he should not have gone, but by the time our lives crossed, he was back where God wanted him to be.
We had a wonderful relationship, and a good marriage. DH was my first husband (at the age of 45), but I'd witnessed enough of good and bad relationships to know that marriage was work, and not always wine and roses. We complimented each other in many ways, and had been raised in similar families with similar values. It was a better match than a marriage to the "love of my life" would ever have been. We finished each other's sentences, almost read each other's minds, shared the same interests in music and movies, cooked together, laughed together, and cried together. I helped him become more patient, and he helped me become a little neater and more organized. We loved and cared for each other's parents, and shared one "child"--a darling Jack Russell/fox terrier dog, who has grieved almost as much as I have over the loss of her beloved "Pop".
Maybe he WAS the love of my life...
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2 comments:
An interesting point. I wonder if you can have two "loves of your life". I had my heart broken once and I sometimes wonder if we remained together what I'd be doing today.
I don't know that there is such a thing as one "love of your life". It sounds like you had a wonderful marraige to a man that made you happy.
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