Love Means....

A couple of weeks ago I had the flu and I lost one weekend and three days of work, before returning to the upright, functioning world once again. Babs had the chutzpah to brag that she hadn't gotten the flu from me. Now, a couple of weeks later, she is down and out and congested and suffering from body aches, fevers, and acute tiredness. She tried her best to work through the whole thing and treat it as some minor inconvenience. Today she has been on the couch under a blanket with a raft of assorted OTC medications, a box of tissue, and a bottle of water on the table next to her. Hasn't gotten out of her jammies all day. The television is tuned to the Dumb Comfort TV Sitcom Channel. I believe it takes the Mega-Premium cable package to get that channel and it's only available when you're sick.

The thing is, when I was down and out with the flu, Babs was there for me. She brought me food and drink, and pillows and blankets. She was Super Nurse, all the while continuing with her work. (She is a full-time writer and has a home office.) I was duly impressed, and being sick I felt a little warm and fuzzy knowing that all of that care was heaped upon me.

Now the tables are turned and it is my turn to reciprocate. I know a lot of people would expect a guy to write about how it was a lot more difficult for him to do what his loving wife had done for him, but not so. I'm there. It takes two to tango, and if one partner has the flu there won't be any tangoing happening. Step up to the plate partner.

Need a blanket? I got it. Need chicken soup? I got it. Need a run to the drug store for anti-flu meds? I got it. Just need a little love and compassion? I got it. Last night Babs wanted something gooey and cheesy for dinner. I used a recipe, but made kick-ass macaroni and cheese from scratch. Don't know if I'll ever be able to go back to lesser mac and cheese now. Tonight she's feeling a little better, if still horizontal, but wants a pizza delivered. Hey I can do that with my eyes closed, and both hands tied behind my back.

I got to thinking about this and frankly it sounds almost like one of those Love is...cartoons that you see in the comics section of the newspaper. In this case, love is being taken care of when you're sick, and love is taking care of someone when they're sick. It works both ways. Funny thing about that.

When relationships are young and new, oftentimes we think of love as sex 16 times a day in every room in the house. Love is taking your lover to do all the things you love and having them appreciate them, while going with them to all the things they love and appreciating those things as well. Love is just being together and taking walks in the park and being all gaga over each other.

After twenty-plus years love takes on new meanings. Love still means sex, just not as often, and perhaps not on the kitchen counters any more. Love is still appreciating those things the other loves, but love is also buying your lover a gift, not because you think it's cool, but because you know they will think it is ultimately cool. Love means sometimes you don't do things you'd really like to do, because you'd really like to do something else with the one you love. And yes love means giving the one you love a lot of love and personal attention when they're sick while knowing in your heart, when it comes your turn, when you feel like crap they will be there for you too. And every once in a while, amazingly enough, you still get a little gaga over each other.