From Young Love to Old love, Together the Same.
For as long as l am
Rummaging around amongst old photographs and scribbled notes, l recently came across a very shaky piece of paper with a hole in it. l recognised my own writing and began to read .
It was dated 1969, and it soon became obvious, as a smile spread over my face that it was a poem l´d written for my soon to be husband, all those years ago.
It contained two verses only , but l loved them so much that l´ve added another two, hoping they will still fit together , having been written half by an eighteen year old and half by the Grannie that is now me.
Summer of 1969.
For as long as l am what l am, l shall love you.
For as long as l am.
And l will never try to be more than l am,
Yet never be less than my all.
l shall love you as long as l am.
For as long as l have what l have, l shall give you,
All that l have to give,
And l will never pretend to give more than l have,
But never give you less than my ALL.
l shall love you as long as l live.
After forty two years, our love is the same,
l still love you as long as l am,
We have never shied away from the trials of life,
The bumpy ride, we have ridden together,
And loved as long as we can..
The bond that was there when l wrote, how l loved you,
Has strengthened, has glued us so tight,
And we have never pretended it´s easy,
Yet, kept loving eachother, day and night.
l shall love you as long as l am..
Somehow l prefer the 1st two verses, written back in 1969, when l was just eighteen, but the final two need to be there , when l hear voices in my head saying ´´It will never last´´.
Our parents said literally that. It won´t last, , our backgrounds were different, l was too young,He, being five years older had been ´doing his own thing´ since he was fifteen and from my parents´ point of view, was far too ´rough and ready´for a little lady like me.
Somehow l don´t think l even heard them. Young love can be deaf as well as blind.
Just as a child seems to remember a permanent Summer from their childhood, my own memories of 1969 are completely of love. Flowers in my hair, Happy gatherings for peace, long floaty dresses, barefoot whenever possible, and the boys..... all with long hair and beards.. Most of all my husbands deep green eyes.
When he looked at me with those beautiful green eyes, l felt no one had ever looked at me quite like that before.
´´Love is a perfect bond of union´´. is one verse in the Bible, taken from the New Testament,
Originally written in Greek. The implications of that Greek word for ´bond´ is that of a strong cement. One that would certainly stick solidly anything you could possibly want it too.
Perhaps in modern times we might compare it to superglue. True love is like superglue.!
Dave and l have certainly become super glued together over forty two years. It´s been needed at times. No one goes through forty two years of marriage on a cloud of problem free joy.
Somehow even as an eighteen year old girl, l must have realised that rose coloured spectacles fall off sometimes altogether, never to be put back on, sometimes for a while and soon we can wear them again. How else could l have written words like..´´Íf l can sit and grow old with you.... l have found the love of my life.´´ Or the words in the above poem...´´l will never pretend to give more than l have.´´ Maybe an óld head on young shoulders´ as an aged relative used to say about me..
Last week, Dave took me to see a ballet of The Snow Queen., l was as excited as a child until l noticed the look of horror on three of our grandsons. ´´´Gramps!´´ they exclaimed in unison, ´going to a BALLET!?´ ´Well at least he´s not IN it¨said the eldest boy. They see ´Gramps´as a rough tough, deep voiced Welshman who doesn´t suffer fools gladly. Poor loves, don´t know the other side of this man.
One elderly lady spotted ´the other side of my deep voiced Welshman´
It was at the end of the performance, when she touched my shoulder and said. ´My dear, l hope you don´t mind me saying so, but it is so unusual to see such a tender moment as l´ve just seen......the way your husband lifted your hair up , so you could get your coat on´..
l laughed, ´´l can´t do it on my own , my hair always ends up half inside my coat and half being blown in the wind. Not easy to brush out later.´´. The loving look in her eyes and the way she smiled at me, told me she has some beautiful memories of her own.
It was an unusual word to use ´tender´ to a complete stranger, l thought. Anyway, to that lady it was a tender moment that put a smile on her face. Nothing beats making someone else happy , even if for only a moment, or better still , for forty two years.