[a story for thanksgiving]
Thirteen words that shape the world.
His name is Corky Burr, age mid-sixties by my calculations. He and I were high school classmates. I don’t believe our paths have crossed since, and we really didn’t know each other well then. I have no memories of him, just a single impression: a small sparkle of kindness. By “small” I mean his physical size, not quality of light. Recently we became Facebook friends, which, as millions of us know, means mostly we get to glimpse at whatever sliver of a person’s life they wish to share with their Facebook companions. The very first statement of Corky’s I was privileged to read was this: “I have 16 more days before I marry the love of my life.”
So rich is that declaration it could be the opening of many a worthy novel or film or play or poem, particularly one of a man whose future will likely be told with fewer calendars than his past.
I’ve been married to the love of my life for 30-plus years. Every time I see her, or hear her voice, the cells in my body seem to do a little dance. I am blessed to know in my own way that magical bond that commits one to embrace...well, everything: the Full Monty (however improbable it may be to achieve unless we're closing in on sainthood). Simply, we dive deeper into the grand adventure with our beloved than we can imagine doing otherwise.
It’s funny. Corky’s Facebook post could have been something that led me to infer he and I share an alma mater, or that we presently live in the same town, or that we’re both a little nuts when it comes to building stone sculptures, or maybe even that we are twins separated at birth, if not fellow aliens from another planet. But as intriguing as any of that common ground might be, none of it matches my happiness for him in having a soul playmate.
I don’t know how big our tribe is, but I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that, since the beginning of time, we have been the keepers of awe.
What does “the love of my life” mean for you?
[More of my own exploration of that question can be found in some essays I’ve written: Winning the Lottery of Love; Becoming an Elder; Young at Love]
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