For Papsie on Valentine's Day

Sonnets from the Portuguese, No. 43

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height

My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight

For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.

I love thee with a love I seemed to lose

With my lost saints—I love thee with the breath,

Smiles, tears, of all my life!—and, if God choose,

I shall but love thee better after death.

Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1806 - 1861)

British poet.

Walking with a physically challenged man along the streets must be shameful and painful for some. But the wife trudges along with him happily, holding hands or a hand on one arm of his. Sometimes he jested, “Enough of the stares, I am not a celebrity.” Or “They must have seen a stroke victim only now.” The wife stares back silently at people who stares confused, or smirks satisfactorily, or gapes surprisingly. This is their life, their everyday life. It took sometime for some people to understand that there is nothing extraordinary about the whole thing. It is but their unconditional love for each other that keeps them together.

Choosing a possible ‘brilliant’ future with another versus the uncertain time with an indisposed beloved may be truly difficult. The wife chose to stay with the person who had made her whole, and had given her the importance and self-realization she knows she can’t get from another. It was a gift for such a wonderful person who chose to drift with life’s unstable waves still with a smile.

This is my story with Papsie.

And to everybody who also has a love story to share, HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY!