In 1919, E.M. Hull wrote a book titled The Sheik. Seething with romance and rampant passion, this book issued in paperback would fall into the hands of two teenage girls many, many years later.
A gangly red head and slightly chubby blonde, best friends, trekked from Northeast Portland across the Willamette River to a bookstore in the lower reaches of Southwest Portland. The worn but precious paperback was judiciously passed back and forth for months, turned down corners and all. The two young girls became women and have remained close over the passing years. One of those girls is “yours truly” and the other is her best friend to this day. In between those teenage years and maturity, romances came and went, as did marriages.
Love, of the romantic kind, is indeed “many splendored” and yes, it often lasts for what seems an eternity. Passionate love has been glorified, stereotyped, forbidden and pooh-poohed. So far, I have referred to Valentine love, a love that fully engages all the senses; the love that emanates from poetry, novels and movies.
It is when this kind of love engages one that feelings broaden to gather all manner of life within. It does truly become a wonder of its own.
Love begets love, and should it be forced from us by the death of a lover, a spouse, a child, a cherished friend, then one is left with an emptiness and an intense desire to fill it. We learn as children that love and friendship often walk together. We learn to love the helpless and needy. We learn acceptable ways to satisfy the desire for affection and the giving of it. We feel the goodness of receiving love and we feel the devastation when love is lost or rejected. Passion is a way of life. It can also be an invitation to sorrow. These emotions promote the intensity and beauty of being fully alive. Emotions can complicate the truth of love. This can make one feel like love is more than one bargained for – when the truth is no one bargains for love. Love is a gift that presents as a rare gem with blinding light. It heightens the senses.
Love is the stuff of poetry and prose. Love helps us bear the realities of life. Love is the natural extension of who we really are and it can take us in a certain direction. February is the month of love. We celebrate love with the sending of valentines – pretty declarations of affection that mean so much.
I end with the wisdom of the Dalai Lama: “There are only two days in the year that nothing can be done. One is called Yesterday and one is called Tomorrow, so Today is the right day to love, believe, do and mostly live.” I send you all a valentine that brings the sweetest of joys, the tenderest of loves, and the knowledge that dark chocolate hearts qualify as health food! It is to my dear oldest friend, Susan Killoran, that I dedicate this column and to the memories we share.
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