True Love

Aged to Perfection^R5

Linda Leary

Looking through my old yearbook I came across a comment by one of my girlfriends. She wrote, "May you find your prince charming, tall, handsome and rich." We used to talk about our "perfect" loves at high school slumber parties in between painting our toes and dancing the twist. In college I added intelligence, compassion, and a sense of humor to the list of attributes that included broad shoulders, narrow waist, thick head of hair and, of course, treating me like I was the most beautiful creature walking the planet.

Now, as a member of AARP, I get magazines with updates on who is keeping it together and still glamorous at age sixty (most likely with a few nips and tucks) and I find it takes a lot longer to lose the pounds that I used to shed by just thinking about it. And what ever happened to the "perfect love" of my youthful dreams?

In the chair next to mine lies the object of my thoughts. Mouth open, he snores to his own private chorale, his abundant belly rising and falling in time with the cadence. Sigh. Where did I go wrong? I glanced at the thinning hair and lines around the eyes of the man I have been with for almost twenty years. Where did the narrow waist go and what happened to the glorious thick, golden hair and  ... I stop myself. "Go back to your list, Linda, and take another look." There were other attributes just under all those meaty physical ones. I went over them one by one.

1. Sense of humor: Oh yes, he is always ready to laugh at my jokes (even when he has heard them before) and especially at himself. That's where those cute little wrinkles around his blue eyes came from.

2. Compassionate: The man will cry at a sad movie, sharing tissues with me. He would give his heart to anyone in pain, especially any of our kids. Together we held our old tabby cat and sobbed when we had to put him down.

3. Intelligence: Yes, he is definitely an intelligent man. He built his own business from nothing and earned the respect of his employees and his clients. And he can fix things—saving us a considerable amount of money on minor home repairs. That man knows a thousand ways to use a wire coat hanger to create some widget to repair some thingamajig.

4. He treats me like I'm beautiful: Okay, so now I am blushing, and not a little humbled. He still tells me I look great and is not shy about telling others how beautiful or how funny he thinks I am. He rarely walks by me without touching me. He always kisses me before going out. As my waistline expands and contracts in true menopausal form, he has never once complained, especially about my mood swings. He listens and he holds me when I need to be held. And, hey, his shoulders are still broad enough for me to cry on or rest my head. He tells me he loves me.

5. He cooks: If I buy the food and plan the meal, he will cook it better than I could. He actually likes cooking and has a family recipe for homemade lasagna that makes me salivate just thinking about it. It is a two-day process. When we had a little competition over who could make the best chicken soup he won, hands down. He has this knack for combining just the right spices.

Oh my. A small lump forms in my throat. Humility is hard to swallow sometimes. My list could go on and on, with nary a slender waist or full head of hair in the lot. So what if he is barely an inch taller than me? He loves it when I wear heels that take me to a lofty 5' 10". I look over at my man again.

He wakes himself up with a particularly loud snort to find me staring at him. I must have this stupid grin on my face because he says, "Okay, what's going on? What did I do? Was it something embarrassing?" I smile at him. "You know, I was thinking." He gives me a wary look that means, "Uh oh, she's been thinking again; this can't be good."

I lean over and whisper, "How about I take you out to dinner, my treat?" His eyes narrow. "Uh, okay, but what is it going to cost me?"

Hmmm. Have I been that shallow? I lean in closer. "Nope. Let's just call it an appreciation dinner—long overdue." At that he grins hugely and says he will take a quick shower and change.

As he gets up, he brushes by me patting my backside in that sweet, absent-minded way he always does. I grab his arm. "Don't ever stop doing that." He stops and looks at me. "Stop doing what?" I feel my face turning red and it is not a hot flash. "You know, the way you always grab my, um, well, you know." He looks more closely at me smiling from ear to ear. "Why, I do believe you are blushing. Woman, you still surprise me. And, as far as that other 'you know' thing, you can count on it."

I giggle, little bubbles of laughter that make me feel almost adolescent. Yep, things are definitely as they should be. Now, where did I put that cologne he likes?

(953 words)