Wednesday, 31 March 2010

Grim Thought

Okay, I know you probably don't want a grim thought. There are enough grim thoughts flying around out there. But this is a helpful grim thought, especially if you are as Single as Single can be.

My helpful grim thought is this: All romantic love leads to either heartbreak or death.

Aaaaah! There. I've said it. The great sucky reality of romantic love. Either the man (or men, let's face it) breaks your heart, or you break his heart, or he dies on you. Of course, you might die on him. But the odds are he's going to die on you 'cause that's what men do, the old so-and-sos!

Since I am married and in love with my husband, since I waited (this time) for the Perfect Man for Me, this dying-before-me thing rather gives me the pip. However, I am determined to make sure I do my bit to get B.A. into heaven, and hopefully I will get in myself eventually, and then that dying thing won't matter so much.

Still, if/when it happens, it will suck. I'm hoping we die simultaneously, martyred by religious fanatics while on a "In the Steps of Saint Paul" pilgrimage-tour in Turkey when we are 80. However, you don't get to choose these things. Oh dear!

These are not good thoughts to have when you are across a whole ocean from your husband, incidentally. Here's a fun video, one of my favourites, to cheer us all up:


Kate P said...

I too was hoping we'd die simultaneously like that Smiths song. :)

Dominic Mary said...

. . . and when one of you dies, the other one discovers just what love is really about : especially if s/he dies in your arms.

Believe me.

Francesca said...

OK, even though I posted on your other blog that I don't always see eye-to-eye with you... *I have said this exact thing more than once.* In some dark-humo(u)red way, it cheers me up when I'm cranky on the singleness issue!

-- Janet

theobromophile said...

My aunt lost her husband a few weeks ago; he was not yet 50, in good physical shape (ate right, exercised), and went to bed feeling healthy and was dead by morning.

At his funeral Mass, she talked about losing her soul mate, her best friend, and her team member. After listening to that, I just feel so irate at the idea that people would fear commitment or love - because the pain is so obviously a part of what was good. Not that I envy my aunt her pain, or dismiss it, but that grief comes from a loss of love, trust, and companionship - the things that make life worthwhile.

Again, not minimising anything, just pointing it out.

Maybe I'm in a lousy mood because today would have been my grandmother's birthday, and she's been gone from my grandfather for over a decade - gone from the man who decided on their first date that he would marry her ("I just had to convince her of that" says he), proposed four months later, and proposed at least two more times until she said yes.

So I say - avoiding grief, yes, but at what cost? What do you have to avoid in your own life to not feel that way?

(Dominic Mary, feel free to rip me apart, if you think I'm nuts.)

bolyongok said...

That is a pretty grim thought... Hm.
I guess it should make one realize that all the time you get to spend with your spouse is valuable. Way too valuable to fight over stupid stuff like who failed to do laundry or who can't sleep with a window open.
I'll have to keep it in mind if I ever meet Mr. Right. Keep that in mind, and not be annoyed with God that I didn't meet him earlier.
Time is a valuable thing, but it's not the only thing.

Dominic Mary said...

no, I don't think you're nuts - it sounds eminently sane to me.

Of course one can avoid the grief; but only by avoiding the joy as well - and I'm none-too-sure that God is all that enthusiastic about us actually avoiding joy : it is, after all, what He's about !

The important thing, as Seraphic pointed out, is to recognize the end at the beginning. I know that if I was ever going to marry again, the question I'd ask myself wouldn't be 'Do I want to wake up next to this woman for the rest of my life ?'; it would be 'Do I want to die in her arms ?'.

Seraphic said...

Bolyongok, it has not occured to me to be annoyed at God for my not meeting B.A. sooner. I met B.A. when I was supposed to, and, indeed, ready to. God knows better than we do, and I am just grateful I met B.A. at all.

Yes, occasionally I feel wistful that we were not 15 years ago who we are now, but that is certainly not God's fault.