Old husbands are like old bras: Comfortable and moulded to shape. I like the ones with underwire – they give unconditional support. And when you find one that is still uplifting after more than a decade, you wonder with glee why it still works.
You might think that old husbands are dull and unromantic. Well, you’re right. You might also think that these chaps have lost that horny spirit and are too languorous for making romantic overtures. Right, again.
Unromantic spouses can be identified by asking yourself these questions: Does this individual postpone his bath and go to bed with dirty feet? Does this species you call bedmate, display the characteristics of a Neanderthal? Does this human go and hide in the man-shed on Feb 14? Is he sought out by florists come mid-Feb?
Of course, this is not a perfect instrument for testing romantic inclinations on the male species but it serves as a rough guide to separate the knee-weakening romantic from the forehead-smacking unromantic. Certainly, there are always other elements that we need to take into consideration: Age, family background, intelligence, kindness and financial ability.
By romantic love, I don’t mean only the feelings that churn inside you, making you heady with anticipation and pleasantly sozzled with expectation. I mean also the things you do and don’t do, the things you say and don’t say. I mean, the conundrum of it all.
Mid-February just makes my hubby sweat and stammer because initiating romantic surprises isn’t his area of expertise. He can cook, wash and keep house but making romantic gestures isn’t in his skill-set.
Anyway, who decided that long-stemmed red roses and cards oozing with mushy words are the tools for romance? It is easy to create a puddle of romance through a candlelit dinner, cards pledging undying love or a beribboned box of chocolates. Hubby would do none of these.
He thinks that much of the deeper meaning we make in life is in the boring and routine, and not through big gestures.
He makes the day special by mopping the floor, cooking my favourite dishes, cutting fruits into bite-sized pieces, and serving them to me on a platter while I languish in front of the TV watching Homeworthy. He is a rare breed. They don’t make husbands like him anymore.
He double-boils a thick chicken soup to strengthen my immunity. He changes the bed linen, trims the jasmine bush near my washing machines, and washes the driveway. Unromantic love is practical, overt and lasts longer.
In movies, two characters meet, tenderness is expressed, and the drama unfolds. In books, love is built from chapters, meaningful dialogue and the expanse of imagination.
In real life, someone comes into your life, upsets your daily routine and days thereafter, is work, putting in effort and striving to make the relationship survive the long haul. It has nothing to do with razzle-dazzle, grand gestures or playing footsie under the dining table. Between “Good morning” and “Good-night” are grocery shopping, paying bills and housework.
I’m in my seventh decade. One doesn’t expect to hear people my age writing so passionately about romantic love. Looks like not much has changed since Jane Austen’s time when it comes to swoonworthy romance. Hmm....what would Mr Darcy give Elizabeth Bennet on Valentine’s Day? The story just captures the complicity of the human heart.
It takes courage to love with intent, to take the bold plunge that comes with vulnerability. So many things can go wrong – one dies, leaving the other bereft; or dementia strikes, snatching away all the memories that hold a relationship together. Grief is a sniper and can strike anyone suddenly. Reality jolts. Thus it is important to cherish the one you love and who loves you back, every day.
What is the sacrifice of loving someone, to have your world revolve around that person? And the responsibilities tied to love? Love makes us all fragile and vulnerable no matter what our age – 17 or 70.
My hubby, lovingly nicknamed the Bear, brings out my silliest self. He can make me laugh at nothing. He has no qualms about rechewing the half-eaten fried chicken on my plate, or assessing a discreet lump on my body.
Our conversations are peppered with our own language that no one else can understand. He once cheekily lifted me from behind as I climbed the tricky steps of a stalled escalator in a shopping mall. I giggled self-consciously while he kept a poker face. These are moments that can make all the difference in the length of a marriage.
After living with the unromantic Bear for more than 40 years, I can’t honestly say I’m above being susceptible to the lure of romantic frenzy. I’m actually a true blue romantic. I have neither forsaken the provocative sentiments nor the charms of romance. I haven’t jettisoned romantic endeavours in pursuit of a staid and sensible lifestyle.
But I’ve learnt to adapt and see love from another perspective. For example, I’ve stopped asking the Bear to read love poems aloud after his rather botched performance years ago. The words fell out a little contrived like killing the poem line by line in a torturous manner – his latent sense of romance was never awakened. It is just not humanly possible to bend him backwards.
Literature is strewn with cautionary tales of romantic escapades and turmoil of the heart. I am still enamoured with reading romance novels especially those by Danielle Steel and Nicholas Sparks. I am just amazed how Sparks could understand the woman’s heart so well. I read The Notebook by Sparks in the 1990s, reread it, and watched a DVD on it many years ago.
We romantics need, at times, to examine our feelings and be sure that our emotions are mature and grounded. We are long past the impressionable age. Every love relationship must be rooted in reality, not fantasy or viewed through rose-tinted glasses.
Being unromantic, such as not being able to recite a love poem, what more compose one – and not yielding to sentimental pettiness of life – is not the chief impairment in a long-term relationship.
In old husbands, look for kindness over romance. The important things are still a good heart, a sense of responsibility, compassion and trustworthiness. Therein lies the murky intersection between romance and relationships. And to use a quote from YourTango that I find to be so true about love: “You annoy me more than anyone else in the world, and I want to spend every irritating moment with you.”
Now that sounds so truthful, but utterly unromantic.
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