In a recent post discussed proposals, and how nerve racking they could sometimes be; but we forget that the proposal is just a defining moment in a whole love story.
The story starts with once upon a time, as all good stories do. There's a spark, which may flare into a blaze quite quickly, or smoulder quietly like an ember. It begins before, and will end long after the proposal. We hope it never ends at all...a happily ever after.
The sad thing about the love story in the real world is that they stay in a private place between two people, and are hardly ever told.
This year, there's much ado about the two world wars, and along with a refinement of history, a great many personal stories are being unearthed. Photograph albums, medals and letters are being rediscovered, and a whole world of love, loss, and reunion now lies tipped out from old chocolate boxes and scattered on carpets across the land.
Love letters abound, and they help us to see a grandparent or great grandparent, not as an arthritic wrinkly pouring tea from a flowery pot, but as they were then...young, vibrant, brimming with life, and spilling their hearts' desires out through the nib of a fountain pen, to travel out across the seas, and enter through the eyes of the long absent beloved, bringing joy, where none had existed before the opening of the envelope.
In a hundred years from now, no-one will read ours. We conduct our lives and loves through phone calls, emails and at very worst, texts.
We have "our song" and it might be Barry White singing "The first, the last, my everything" or some other balladeer saying it, and writing it for us.
The successful song writers seem to have the gift of reading our minds, and even throw in the music to dance to. They're the poets in our word-lazy-busy world, and we buy their recordings and stack our shelves high with them, forgetting that the sentiments sung are universal, and only ours by coincidence. The songster is a magician, who in writing his own magic spell, makes all of us believe it's ours...we literally dance to his tune.
All is not lost however...oh no...There’s genius in every one of us. Pick up the Bic dear readers, and pen a note now and then. Stick it on the fridge, have it pinned to a bunch of flowers. Girls, tuck it under the wind screen wiper, and when he's recovered from the shock of a parking ticket on his own drive, he'll be delighted. Wrap his sandwiches in it. Lay it on a pillow if you're away from home, or hide it in a shoe.
We know that on card sending occasions we all try to come up with the well turned phrase that can be read by various members of the nosy public browsing mantelpieces. Is it enough? No it's not...you may disagree...argue if you want, but a few words, written to catch a moment, will be kept in a special place, and treasured forever.
A fortunate few, will have a collection already, will you share them with us? We'd love to know that Barry White and his ilk are just a little bit redundant, and that the art of the love letter is alive, well, and still making our hearts flutter today...it keeps the world turning.