Love, I Think

From the February 2007 Issue of Focused Press

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As I wait at the bus stop in the dark heading out to pick up the latest Sims Games for my girlfriend, I wonder what love is. Can it be found in a one night stand? Will it reveal itself before our time runs out? Is it forever or fleeting? Very deep questions, I must say, for a bus ride.

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I consider those that I have “loved” in the past. I once had a huge crush on a girl who eventually came out of the closet. Now, I’m dating a girl who I love, despite the fact that she drives me crazy. Love is complicated, but at the same time, it is possibly the thing that focuses the human mind more than anything else. When you’re in love you focus… you know what you want and things, despite the fog, seem clearer.

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Now, I’m not claiming to know what love is. I don’t. And I think very few of us do. What we experience is in fact just glimpses of what love truly is. We experience a fleeting glance or an ache in our heart when separated. We long for another’s embrace. But it’s far from love.

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The other day, for example, I saw true love. My grandmother moved into an old age home about 12 months ago and my grandfather, at the time, still lived at home and visited her on a daily basis. He wasn’t well himself, having had an aneurism years back and having the use of only one of his legs. Two months after she moved into the home my grandfather had a Gout Attack and was brought immediately to the hospital. I remember the first time I visited him there. He was sitting up right in bed, tubes coming from his body, and he turned to my father and asked, “Is Tessie alright?” After fifty years of marriage the first thing that came to mind after a medical emergency, is will my wife be alright. After fifty years he still had that instinct to protect her. After fifty years he still loved her.

God, I don’t know what love is, but I know it when I see it.

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He died this weekend and we miss him. But that’s another type of love isn’t it? That part of you that is lost without the affection of your other. That aching question that asks, without answer, “How will I go on without them?”

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So the question remains. What is love? Could it be that hour you take out from your evening to buy your girlfriend a much wanted present? Is it that never ending desire to care for and protect your special person? Or can it only be truly appreciated once it is lost? Whatever it is, it certainly makes life that much more interesting.

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See you next month.

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Tessie passed away two years ago this summer. They both are dearly missed and their love is a testament to the best in us all.

My Grandfather in a Nutshell

Written for the class "Public Relations Advanced Writing"

During my first year at Mount Saint Vincent University, my mother was chronically concerned that I would be homesick. On top of the dozens of care packages she sent throughout the year, she also had my relatives write me letters which would periodically pop up in my mail box. The first letter was from my grandfather – my Grampie.

It is written on a small sheet of note paper, no more than three inches by six inches. He had donated money to the Canadian Wildlife Federation and they had sent him the sheets as a gift. It was a god-ugly green color with a picture of a baby bob cat at the bottom. At the top, his name was typed “Mr. George W. Deviller” – to add that personal touch.

The note is short, simple and written in barely legible cursive. It is dated September 10, 2005. It reads:

Hi Jeffrey;

How are you doin’. I trust you’re settled into your new quarters by now and making loads of new friends. It’s exciting times all right. I trust the Mount is to your liking. Do I hear the girls outweigh the boys almost 8 to 1? I see! You guys don’t stand a chance. How I envy you.

I was in Halifax yesterday to see my doctor ‘Sergian’ about my operation 12 years ago. He gave me a good report which was comforting.

Take care of yourself, Jeff.

Love Grampa OXO

I had a black Dollarama frame empty in my desk and on a whim hung the note on the wall. As I moved six times, I kept the note and hung it wherever I called home.

It was just so… Grampie. His grasp of modern slang (‘How are you doin’) mashed with his outdated lingo (‘quarters’) captured my down-to-earth grandfather. The fact he was comforted, comforts me. His kind words at the end show the love that my grandfather had for his grandchildren. It was, however, the side note ‘How I envy you’ that struck me as both funny and strikingly genuine. It was my grandfather in a nut shell. He loved women. He was human, but his humanity made him all the more likeable.

Over the next two years, my Grampie’s and my Grammie’s health deteriorated both physically and mentally. Before long, my Grammie was put in a home, while Grampie stubbornly clung to his freedom. In 2007, my grandfather had a gout attack and was sent to the hospital. While there, my grandmother died in her bed. He passed away six months later.

Throughout his life, my Grampie wasn’t always the perfect man. However, throughout my life, he was the perfect grandfather. Nothing that I inherited from him so encapsulated the man I knew as well as this note. It hangs in my bedroom to this day.