Autolycus I’ll tell you a story, about how I came to be.
Sit down on my knee, right here (well, you’re probably bigger than me, so don’t crush me.)
My parents met on an airplane. My Mom was flying to some conference somewhere, and she noticed my dad, who was flying home from his brother’s wedding. He was recently out of the Navy in Vietnam, and she had spent her entire life in western Pennsylvania. Amish country (she’s not Amish, but the only school in town is Catholic, as is she.) (So this would be about 1972.)
She noticed him in the airport, and thought he was cute. They happened to sit together on the plane, and she offered him a stick of gum. They talked, and exchanged addresses. Then they parted ways.
When Mom got home there was a 6-page letter from Dad. I’ve heard stories later that Dad’s family was bemused by his story of a “girl with blue eyes with little gold flecks”.
Dad’s family is very Fundamentalist Christian. Not so happy with him interested in a Catholic. But they did it. Mom came out to Washington, stayed with a different family than his (to stay pure - no sex before marriage).
They had me - very planned. The other two sisters - less planned. There was at least one point where my mom was so frustrated with Dad that divorce seemed an option.
But they’ve been married over 30 years now, and they love each other. “Love” may have changed its definition over time, but I know that they feel strongly for each other, even today. It’s not crazy passion, but it is love. (Including the physical aspects of love.)
They met in July and they were married in October. My Mom moved across the country to be with him.
Now Dad is a truck driver and I think Mom cherishes both her time with him and her time when he’s away.
So yes, I absolutely do believe in love. I just also believe that there is more than one definition.
(Wish my own loves were going more smoothly tonight…)