True Love

The “tsunami” hit around 3 p.m.

My husband and I recently experienced a wicked case of food poisoning. Just prior to the onset, we both commented to one another how wonderful we were feeling, after having taken a leisurely walk through the pasture, and watching a young doe frolic in the grass. Good times.

Without warning, the “tsunami” hit around 3 p.m. Ohhh . . . Ohhh . . . Like two beached whales, all we could do was to ride it out.  At some point during the night, I must have been delusional, for I was offering my first born to the Gods in the hope of some form of reprieve.

Thank goodness our abode houses two toilets, which we both frequented like a busy train station. With one wounded soldier tending to the other, we were a sorry sight. “You OK?” “No. How about you?” “Ohhh . . . ” Grunts, moans, and tenuous toots could be heard throughout the night. True love.

Daylight brought promise. We had managed to get through the worst of the storm. I heard birds chirping once again, and my husband had a serious craving for an apple fritter. Clearly, we were on the mend. Parched and in need of hydration, I prepared a hot cup of Yogi Ginger tea, where each tea bag contains a notable quote. The wisdom of the day read, “It is not talking about love, but living in love that is everything.” I paused to imbibe this divine decree, and wondered what life would be like if we truly lived every day in love.

As badly as my husband and I appeared, we had one another to weather the offending bacteria, for which I am most grateful. It is in times like these when love is not some romanticized ideology, but indeed becomes a verb. Our marriage has grown stronger because of the love we share, and from what we have experienced, and at times endured, together. For better, for worse, in sickness and in health, we do.