Fun fact: contrary to popular belief, I do believe love exists.
I know, I know. Who says that? But whatever, shut up. I do.
My neighbors down the street, M and H, are absolutely the nicest couple in the world. Both retired, they have breakfast at a little family restaurant every day. They wander around garage sales and museums and quilt shows and whatever interests one of them. M lent me a book about making t-shirt quilts when I wondered if I could manage that. (It remains to be seen but ONE DAY.) H brought me his old, worn Ford Model A belt buckle when he learned that I was looking for a vintage buckle several years ago. They are the model neighbors and you'd want a whole neighborhood full of them.
A few weeks ago, M suffered from a major heart attack and passed away. It was the kind of shocking news that leaves your head spinning because it just can't be true. H came over to tell us, early in the morning, and my heart broke. He was telling my parents what the doctors had said, but all I could focus on was his left hand. On his little finger, next to his wedding band, was her wedding ring. I left the room because the sight of that small gold band was overwhelming. It should be on her finger, as she sits next to him.
They married young, in the 1950s. This week would have been their 54th wedding anniversary. The pictures from their wedding are fabulous, full of white tuxedo jackets and Buddy Holly glasses and full skirted dresses.
Fifty four years. That's love. That's the love I believe in. As men throw out terrible lines and grab me in bars and think texting to say, "wanna hang out" is enough...I can only shake my head because that's not how you find yourself married for 54 years. I can't imagine any relationship founded on drunk dials is going to be as worthwhile as M and H's...so no, random guy, you can't have my number. I do not want to come home with you. I like being single. My life is actually pretty fantastic and not really missing anything if I do say so myself. If I'm going to make myself (and another person) miserable in a relationship, I might as well hold out for something better.
