Love – (n) an intense feeling of deep affection; a deep romantic or sexual attachment to someone; affection based on admiration, benevolence, or common interests.
Love: the strongest four-letter word in the English language. After 20 years, I am still trying to figure out what that word even means because, if you think like me, that definition up there is pretty vague.
I don't think I've found love of my own just yet. Or have I? Does anyone really know what it feels like? Do I wake up one morning and it hits me – BOOM – love? I don't really know if I expect explosions or weightlessness or whatever. But, I digress.
I think I've seen love. I'm not talking about in The Notebook or Disney movies or on Boy Meets World. That stuff is fake and too perfect – love doesn't work like that. Love isn't about fairytale endings or the boy knocking on your door in the end to tell you you're "the one." It's not about romantic dinners or cheesy lyrics. And love is not always found in sex.
When I was in the first grade, my paternal grandmother passed away. I don't remember much about that day other than getting off the bus and my father frantically trying to ask my next-door neighbor to keep an eye on me.
My grandmother had lay down to take a nap before her routine check-up at the doctor. As usual, my grandfather decided to rub her back while she drifted to sleep. He always did this; he was still madly in love with his wife and cared for her deeply.
My grandmother didn't wake up from that nap. When my grandfather realized she wasn't breathing, he called 911. The doctor pronounced her dead at the hospital because he couldn't bear to tell my grandfather she had passed away under his touch.
I watched my grandfather over the next few years – he was put into a nursing home as his health deteriorated. He was like a lost puppy without my grandmother – cliché, but true; he was missing his other half. He was no longer living in the home they built together, and his three kids were busy living their own lives with their own spouses.
Not even three years later, my grandfather passed away. The official reason was complications from the flu and pneumonia, but if you ask my dad, he'll say his father died of a broken heart.
Recently, my maternal grandfather has been in the hospital. He's been in and out over the past couple months because he's had fluid and bleeding on the brain, and he's undergone several surgeries in the past year alone. Pair this with his increasing age (almost 80 years), triple coronary bypass surgery, a stroke, serving in the military, and years of abuse to his health – my grandfather is a fighter.
My grandmother has been his rock – she's carted him to every doctor's appointment and even though she worked full-time, too, she still found time to care for their children and their home.
My mom has been taking my grandmother almost every night to visit. He was in the intensive care unit (thankfully, he's since been moved to a regular room), and because of the pressure on his brain, he wasn't able to form words or sentences as well as he should.
He couldn't remember his daughter or son's name; my mother even joked that he could only remember my dad's name and only could call his own son "junior." He couldn't remember my grandmother's name – his wife for over 50 years – but when visiting hours were over, he begged her to take him home.
I've watched both sets of grandparents celebrate their 50th wedding anniversaries – a true testament of "'til death do us part." They stood by each other, through trials and through happy moments. They supported each other, cared for each other, and gave each other kisses when they renewed their vows. They succeeded in a world that wanted them to fail.
These stories aren't meant to be sad; rather, they've shown me what true love is.
So, if you're looking for love, don't look to the movies or to cheesy song lyrics. Don't try to find it by opening your legs to whatever is in front of you. Look at what's around you – your parents, your grandparents, anyone who has experienced life and loss. Love doesn't blossom overnight, and it takes work. It's a bond that can't be broken, even by the harshest struggles.
I think that defines love.
Email: rebecca.bratek@ubspectrum.com
