by Liz Flaherty
My thanks to
Jenny Crusie for this post. Not that she wrote it or even knows it exists, but
it’s because of http://www.reinventingfabulous.com/,
where she suggested we “take a moment” that I’m writing about happy pieces of
time.
Like when
someone tells your kid she’s just like you and your kid says, “Thank you.”
Or when no
one’s around and your aloof five-year-old grandkid climbs into the chair with
you and stays a while.
Or when in the
manuscript from hell, you get a scene that is so perfect it leaves you
laughing, crying, or jumping up and down. Or all three.
We talk about
Happily Ever After a lot. Married 44 years and some, I believe in Happily Ever
After. Every time someone talks about a
romance novel without one at its end, I cringe. And it’s not because I think
life goes on blissfully and without flaws as long as the protagonists live. I
don’t expect their lives to be perfect.
No, what I
expect is that they’ll slam doors, they’ll mumble “I hate you” under their
breaths, they’ll think all the way to work about how that night when they get
home they’re going to ask for a divorce. They’ll sit alone in the dark and cry
sometimes and they’ll envy their friends who always get it right and never have
any problems. In their futures there will be the thing said or done that is
nearly unforgiveable, there will be grief that brings them to their knees and
threatens to swallow them whole, there will be bad days. Oh, Lord, yes, lots of
bad days.
And it’s all
moments. Even during long, hard days, there are good moments. And during
bright, sunshiny ones, there are pinpoints of darkness.
We went to a
wedding this weekend. We were leaving the reception–kind of early—and were
halfway to the door of the venue when the DJ started a slow song. Duane turned
back and said, “You want to?” and we went back and danced for the first time in
years. It was only a moment--or a few of them--but it has made me happy all day.
Happily Ever
After. In moments. I guess that’s why I write romance.
Tell us about
your moments–-good and bad. We’re good listeners.
Have a great
week.
My husband was a senior in college when I met him. I was a freshman. He told me he planned to go to France when he graduated. He wanted to study at the Sorbonne. Then he met me and we got engaged instead. We had our ups and downs. Fights and makeups. I was at his apartment for dinner with him and his roommate one evening and saw a calendar on his desk. It was the type where you flip the pages. We had chosen September 3rd for our wedding. I flipped through the calendar and came to that page. He had "get married" written on that date. It was crossed through and below it was "go to France." That was crossed out and "get married" was written again. Then crossed out. Well, you get the picture. The last entry was "get married." I wrote "forget France. I love you." He told me many years later that he thought that was the most endearing of all the love notes (and there were many) that I wrote him. It worked because we were married on September 3rd and had almost 50 years together before brain cancer took him from me. I always regretted that he didn't get to go to France, but felt deeply loved all those years.
ReplyDeleteWhat beautiful moments. And I'll bet if he'd gotten to choose again, he'd still have opted for "get married". Happy anniversary!
DeleteI love this! So romantic. Congrats on a happy life together.
DeleteI definitely needed to read this today. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteThanks, A.D. Hope you have some good moments today.
DeleteGreat post, Liz! Love it! It's been a weekend filled with moments as Husband has shooed me away from the most basic of household tasks, taking over while I work on this giant editing gig that's due soon. He's taken over the dishes, the laundry, and the rest of the things that pull me away from work--that's romance! Oh, and a romance novel isn't a romance novel without an HEA! If they don't end up together and on the road to HEA, it's just a story. ;-)
ReplyDeleteGood for Jim! I'm with you in that there's nothing more heroic than a man in the kitchen. :-)
DeleteWe all have those moments when we'd like to throw our significant other over the side of a bridge, then they do something so precious it returns them to hero status. Those are the moments I like to write about. I figure, the perfect man would be incredibly boring.
ReplyDeleteNot only boring, I'd have to wonder what he ever saw in me. :-)
DeleteI love those little moments! We took a quick little family trip this weekend and at one point Saturday night while bebe was watching something on her iPad and RadioMan was watching football and I was reading, we just looked at each other and it was magic. I heard him say, "this is perfect," and he heard me say it, too, even though neither of us said a word.
ReplyDeleteThanks for sharing your moment with us, Liz!
Love those silent conversations!
DeleteSO many moments every day if I just keep my heart open. Although our boys are now teens, I still fall a little bit more in love with my hubby when he spends quality time with our kids.
ReplyDeleteYes, that is so great. Even now, Duane and our oldest are on the phone. I just leave the house--they don't need me.
DeleteLovely post. I hereby resolve to start paying more attention to those special moments instead of merely smiling and letting them slip by in the grand motion of life.
ReplyDeleteEspecially since everything slips by so fast these days! Hope you had a good visit with your daughter, Alison.
DeleteSweet post. Thanks for the reminder to be in gratitude every moment.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Ashantay. I need reminding, too.
DeleteLove this reminder! Thank you, Liz. And loved your dance story. So sweet.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Margie. It was a lovely time.
DeleteLovely post, Liz. I have many moments every day and I'm grateful for each and everyone of them.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Stanalei. An "attitude of gratitude" can work wonders, can't it?
Delete