I believe love has many disguises.
I am a 52-year-old single woman. Sixteen years ago I became divorced with three children ages 2, 8 and 12. I mourned the loss of my marriage but looked ahead and assumed that somewhere in the world, my true soul mate would make his way to me.
I believed in Kismet, synchronicity and love at first sight. I believed that everything happens for a reason, and that there must be a reason that year after year I stayed single, while others I knew found the man of their dreams. I dated, but never found a man that could wear the glass slipper.
Time went by spent at choir concerts, cheerleading events, high school debate competitions etc. and while my children grew, I continued to believe that just around the corner, because I had been so good and patient, my true love waited. I imagined that he too had been patiently ticking off the years as we waited until the moment of time when we would meet, and then we would “just know”.
We would wake up early on Sunday mornings and sit on the deck reading the paper, doing the New York Times crossword together, and sipping Mimosa. We would have dinner parties that people would walk away from saying “Why can’t we have parties like that?” and we would take our children and grandchildren on trips that would be such wonderful bonding events that pictures wouldn’t do it justice. That never happened.
Instead, years have passed and my children are grown and gone and I am left to sort out what this thing is about, this love thing.
Here is what I believe.
I believe love has many disguises and we can waste our entire lives missing out on showers of love, while waiting for our “one true love”.
Last week I rented a cottage for the weekend. I went away for the morning and when I returned a three-legged pit bull was laying near the front door. As I approached it hobbled to a standing position, walked over and sat in front of me. I knelt down and opened my arms. This wonderful fierce looking stranger of an ugly dog hobbled to me and laid his head on my shoulder. I hugged him and held him quietly, and he let me. I smoothed his fur and told him what a beauty he was, and in some way I felt he did the same. Then I stood and left, and he did as well. I felt loved. Go figure.
I still believe in Kismet, synchronicity and love at first sight. But now I look for love on two legs, three legs, in a bouquet of flowers, hell, wherever I can find it.
I find love every day now. I am no longer on deck; I am up to bat and trying to hit a homer every day.
I believe in love. I do. I just believe it has many disguises.
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