Not quite 13 years ago, I walked down a short aisle on a landing at a local pond promised a bunch of yada yada, made goo-goo eyes at a very handsome man and voila! left my maiden days behind.
We had a somewhat offbeat wedding. I chose our processional song — the instrumental version of The Princess Bride. (Our First Dance was to the Mark Knopfler version that added in vocals. We’d taken ballroom dance lessons for months prior to the big day, and still I managed on a twirl to bop him in the nose with my elbow. No blood.)
Roger got to choose the recessional song. It just now came up on my iPod, thus prompting this little Valentine’s Day post in his honor.
Know what he chose? The song to kick off our married life, to serve as backdrop for our first kiss, to face the landing full of our family and friends as husband and wife, to launch our big-ass party? A song from his favorite movie, Goodfellas. (Are you seeing the movie theme here?)
Roger, thanks for the roses I found in the kitchen this morning. My fate is still up to you.
I’m pondering three quotes, traveling their threads on this unstructured day.
1. People are like stained-glass windows. They sparkle and shine when the sun it out, but when the darkness sets in, their true beauty is revealed only if there is a light from within. — Elizabeth Kubler-Ross
2. Everyone has a price, and life respects that price. But that price is not measured in dollars or in gold, it is measured in love. More than that, it is measured in self-love. — Don Miguel Ruiz in my 2007 engagement calendar
3. And wuv, twu wuv, will fowow you foweva…So tweasure your wuv. — The Impressive Clergyman in the Princess Bride
Hmmmm….do I have a light within? Often I feel like all the light in my life (which is considerable) comes from outside me. I’m surrounded by lots of shining people, really good people. It is an odd thought that I attract light because I am light. Could I be? I must be. But I don’t quite believe it. Not in my bones.
How do I love myself? I see all my flaws (which are considerable). But I am able to love other flawed people, loving their light and their dark. Can I also love myself that way — to see myself as more than just the sum of my flaws?
What would it be like to love myself so much — to be so in love with myself — that I have the same sensations I had when Roger and I first met, or the same sensations as when I first held each of my children?
To have my heart beat with excitement in anticipation of the chance to be with me?
To want to get lost in me.
To come up with simple and elaborate ways to pamper me and make me feel special.
Is it acceptable in our culture to love one’s self? How can one express self-love? Is doing so selfish, or is it the most selfless thing in the world?
Can we ever twuwy wuv another without first wuving and tweasuring ourselves?