Between us, we’ve been working 24 hours a day this week! I used to have a friend who, when I complained about a lack of time, pointed out I had exactly the same amount of time as Einstein, Edison and every genius on the planet. It was never comforting to hear but having seen our Beach cottage this week, I rank Ian amongst the list of genius (does that make him a genie??!!). In eight weeks our cottage has gone from a tired 1950s bach (albeit with a good paint job) to a new, beautiful, light and airy family home.
I on the other hand, have had a few too many of the above just in order to get through long evenings of presentation prep which coupled with dinner, bath-time and lunchmaking has in all honesty, tipped me over the edge a bit!!
However – amongst all the hectic pace, I’ve managed to watch the sun set over the island, tucking its golden rays behind the forest clad hills, and take a little time to reflect. I’ve been thinking about love languages – we’ve all heard of the book and probably self-analysed ourselves. What love language are you? I have never really be too precise for myself but the last few weeks have seemed to hi-light that I’m a ‘Quality TIme’ girl. I need my man to be with me, to hang out with us, to eat dinner together.
So tonight, he came home from work early, walking in the door in a cloud of plaster dust, with fading eyes and weary foot fall. I had planned and prepped a lamb roast dinner. THe potatoes, carrots and kumara had crispened beautifully and cauliflower & leek cheese was bubbling away. But the lamb, slathered in red currant jelly and garlic was red and bloody! I managed to control my panic and investigate the reason – the oven was on ‘grill’ and at only 150 with the lamb on the bottom, it had just not been roasted AT ALL!! And so tonight we had a vegetarian roast! The shiraz made it better!
And then Ian was off out, a bit of time for himself to catch up with friends over something other than a semi-cold tea and builders biscuits! And I went back to my reflections… with my trusty companion:
So what makes love last? It’s too big of a question for this time of the night but It is interesting that the most sought after state is the most difficult to define or work out. I need time, he needs praise, my mother loves through acts of service and my mother-in-law is a gift giver! We all have such individual needs and some of these just don’t sit easy. Part of love isn’t just knowing what your loved one needs to make them tick, or just understanding what they do for you that speaks their love, but is actually following through. It’s the capacity and strength to think about your own actions and reach out despite it not making much sense or keeping in check that which irritates them!. I’m not for one moment saying I do this – I am merely reflecting that the muddy path of love isn’t quite as tidy as the FIve languages or any other book would indicate. There is still something surreal and abstract about love – something that can’t be put in words. It’s that something that makes you see your mistakes and wish you’d not said that. Its that something that makes you want to touch your lover even when the war of anger has been waged and the wall seems impenetrable. It makes me deliver muffins and at least attempt to cook lamb. I know that we don’t always speak the same language of love, but there’s a part of love that doesn’t have a language – that is far deeper and far wilder and far less understandable than anything we try to clothe with words and analogies. The poets seemed to make a good effort:
Love is more thicker than forget
love is more thicker than forget
more thinner than recall
more seldom than a wave is wet
more frequent than to fail
it is most mad and moonly
and less it shall unbe
than all the sea which only
is deeper than the sea
love is less always than to win
less never than alive
less bigger than the least begin
less littler than forgive
it is most sane and sunly
and more it cannot die
than all the sky which only
is higher than the sky
Love is more than my rages, my silences and my errors. Love is more than frustration and the desert of a heart that hasn’t been feed with time, sweet time. Love is more than mistaken words, than forgotten gestures or jobs. Love is oh so much more. And I am grateful to the Great Eternal that I have love.