Intimacy vs Romance

Valentines Day.  Some people really get into it.  Others pretty much hate it.  We've always kind of ignored it.  When we were dating we acknowledged it with the usual exchange of candies and cards.  I still have the little black teddy bear with a rose in its hands that my husband got for me the first year we were together.  I remember making a big fuss about the day, because for once I had someone special to spend it with.  Then when we were first married we were too poor to really acknowledge the day and too busy working opposite shifts to spend the time together.  We got into the habit of not getting each other anything and just letting the day pass.  A few years ago I began insisting that my husband acknowledge the day again, after all our children were much older and we were in a better financial position to spend a little money on each other.  So we began getting cards for each other and he started getting me gifts.  That year he got me a gift certificate for an hour massage.  It was not on my preconceived list of acceptable gifts (known only to me of course) and I was disappointed with it.  Poor guy.  He just could not win.  [Side note:  2 years later when I finally used my gift certificate I ended up buying a membership and now treat myself every month to a massage.  He is a wise man and does not throw this fact in my face often.]  And that brings me to this year.  For the first time in our marriage we actually went out on Valentines Day.  And we went to see a romantic movie.  My husband was not exactly thrilled about taking me to see this movie, but he went along with it because he's a good husband.

The movie we saw was called "Old Fashioned".  It's a Christian film about strangers who meet and fall in love through spending quality time with each other and building intimacy instead of getting naked and jumping into bed with each other.  It is a really sweet film with a good message and lots of good, clean humor.  The background music was a little hokey.  I don't get why the Christian made films always have such an awkward score going on, but the movie was good despite the corny music.  One of my favorite scenes in the movie was when this couple first meets outside of their normal roles in the grocery store.  It reminded me of our famous grocery store dates.  I think grocery shopping is one of our favorite things to do together.  My husband likes to cook fancy things and I like to eat... a lot, so the grocery store is where dreams come true.  My husband even finally accepts my dancing in the aisles as an endearing quality of mine instead of being agitated by it like he used to be.  All through the film as the main characters went on different dates and laughed at inside jokes I was reminded of our relationship, at least up until the end when Clay, the main character makes this grand romantic gesture, and I mean totally grand, completely over the top.  Instead of being touched by the idea I felt a little bitterness growing in my heart.  My mind instantly launched into, "My husband never did anything like that for me.  He's not the least bit romantic.  We don't even have an engagement story."  It didn't help matters that he got a little snippy with me before the movie because he was overwhelmed in the moment and I handed him my scarf to put with my coat as I got up to use the restroom.  That minor infraction, despite his immediate apology upon my return, and my covetousness of a relationship built more on romance launched into a full blown case against him in my mind.  It was settled.  He was guilty of being a non-romantic and not treating me as I ought to be treated.  I was prosecutor, judge, jury, and executioner all at once.  And the ride home seemed like the ripe opportunity to carry out his sentence: a long diatribe about how unromantic he is and how unfair that is to me, the innocent victim in all of this, who is the best thing since sliced bread, seriously how would he ever get by without me in his life?  And what was his response to my lecture?  "I'm sorry.  I know I'm not very romantic.  I don't mean to hurt you.  Tell me what kinds of things I do now that make you feel cherished and I can start from there"  In that moment I could not think of one.

I am still deeply grieving the loss of four children we never met.  It mostly gets easier with time, but it's worse for the moment.  Much worse.  I've been doing great for months, but as we approach the one year anniversary of our last loss I find I'm having more grief days than non grief days.  What makes it worse is when I encounter triggers of my grief.  I avoid them as much as possible, pregnant women, baby showers, etc.  But sometimes they are unavoidable, like my massage therapist announcing to me mid-massage that she's expecting.  I think I handled that one pretty well, though, as I didn't have much of a choice.  I was, after all, in a vulnerable state and unable to leave quickly.  The worst triggers of my grief, however, are completely unavoidable.  They are the dreams.  Some nights I dream that have a baby.  Sometimes I dream that I'm pregnant.  Sometimes I dream that we changed our minds and have decided to pursue treatment after all.  Regardless of the specifics of the dream, they always lead to the same result.  I awake and realize it was just a dream and feel an unbearable sadness overwhelm me.  I am usually very tearful those days and not a lot of fun to be around.  I want to snap out of it and feel normal again, but the harder I fight the grief the worse it gets.  I have learned I just need to go with it for the day, pray, ask my friends to pray, and it will pass eventually.  I used to have these dreams once every few weeks so it was very manageable.  Lately I've been having them a couple times a week and I'm getting impatient with the process and with myself which makes me even less consolable.  Last night I had one of those dreams and today was one of those days.  I carried out the usual Sunday morning routine and went to church, but instead of going to Sunday School where I would risk feeling lonely in a crowded room I found my husband at the sound board.

So what do you think my non-romantic husband did?  He stepped aside from playing with a shiny new digital sound board, sat next to me and held me while I sobbed on his shoulder.  He whispered to me encouraging and loving words.  He reminded me to be kind to myself.  He acknowledged how difficult this time of year is.  He shared his own grief and pain.  He wiped my tears and told me how beautiful I was.   And when we got home he sat with me and stroked my hair because he knows that relaxes me.  He went out in 18 degrees to bring in wood to make a fire for me because I was cold.  He covered me with a blanket.  He took my cup of hot tea out of my hand as I fell asleep so I wouldn't spill it.  These are the things that he does for me day in and day out.  None of them are the grand romantic gestures that we see in the movies, but they are sweet acts of kindness born out of love toward a very undeserving wife.  And though I still feel sad (as no one, except Jesus, can take away this pain), I also feel cherished and loved by him in the midst of my greatest pain.  This is true intimacy.  Romance is fleeting.  It's here for a moment, but then it exists only as a memory until the next act.  Intimacy lasts.  It's there even when you can't see it.  And I even think that romance without intimacy is hollow and artificial.  Romance can be taught and even borrowed, but intimacy needs to be cultivated and nurtured.  Now romance and intimacy are not mutually exclusive and naturally I'd prefer to have both (I want it all, you know), but I would not want to sacrifice true intimacy for romance.  I am thankful for my non-romantic husband and for my Lord who taught me this important lesson on this day of grief.  God is good all the time.  All the time God is good.