Thursday, September 22, 2011

Of Love and Dirt

            If my road is bumpy then my wife's is a rutted out tractor path through a muddy pasture strewn with cow-pies.  She has seen her fair share of bumps, dips, and potholes.  But that's her story to tell not mine (and would need a whole other blog).  However, in that pasture wandering on a game trail, she came across a mean, ornery boar, thick of hide and hard of head.  That boar was making a big ol' mess of the place, tearing up everything he came across.  Now, instead of running that boar out of the pasture, she walked right up and greeted that stubborn oaf.  She befriended the muddy, cranky boar and eventually married him.
             Which brings me to the point of the matter, love.  Some use the words soul mate, destiny, and romance.  They put forth this idea of "true love" and fairy tales.  They build it into this pretty, delicate thing of magic and wonder.  Yet, in truth, it is none of these things.  Love is a dirty, gritty endeavor.  It is seeing the shortcomings and embracing them.  Love is smelly and grumpy, like the diapers at two in the morning, or the baby vomit on the shoulder of your dress shirt (No magic or wonder here).  Love is morning breath and sweaty laundry (Still no magic, though some wonder as to where all this laundry came from).  It is childish and foolish, like drunken antics while trying to recapture your youth (this may qualify for embarrassing and painful too).  Love is hardship, like the daily sacrifices each person makes for family and loved ones, sleepless nights and worry (The magic would be finding the time to sleep).  It is easy to love the nice things and the good times but it is rare to find someone that cherishes the tough times and the hard work.
                Happiness isn't tiaras and pixie dust, it's bristly hair and warts.  And anyone who tells you any different has never really been in love.  And so my wife looked out across the cow pies and mud at the nasty boar.  She hiked up her muck boots, walked through the slop and hit that big pig over his thick skull with a big stick.  She chased that mean beast right back into the barn, slamming the door behind him.  Then she shook her head and went back in the house.

No comments:

Post a Comment