Real Life Romantic Stories
As I thought about writing this post, I wondered whether the stories I planned to tell would seem romantic to someone else. I think we all have some similar ideas and some different ideas about what is romantic. I was talking with one of my daughters the other day and asked her what she and her husband did for Valentines' Day. She told me they stayed home and ordered a pizza. Was that romantic? For them, it probably was. She said something else that struck me. She doesn't particularly like Valentines' Day. She wondered what is romantic about buying someone candy, flowers or a card or taking them out to dinner because someone else said this was the right day to do it. She said it is more romantic to do something unexpected when no one has told you to do it. With that in mind, I am going to relate two stories about my daughters and their husbands that spell romance to me.Just weeks after our older daughter had started to date her husband-to-be, she was diagnosed with Crohn's disease. That might have been a good reason for many guys to end the relationship, but he stuck around. Crohn's is an autoimmune disease that mostly affects the digestive tract, but as in my daughter's case, also affects her joints. My husband and I knew almost from the beginning of their relationship that this young man was a keeper. We first met him when he accompanied our daughter to her uncle's wedding. She had recently started the regimen involving diet and several medications that would keep her Crohn's disease under control. During the entire weekend, her guy was making sure she took her pills at just the right time and made sure we stopped for meals because she needed to eat at regular times. On the surface, those things may not seem romantic, but what is more romantic than making sure someone you care about has what they need?
The second story involves our younger daughter and her husband-to-be. She lived on the sixth floor of a building on Marlborough Ave. in Boston's Back Bay. There was a small elevator in the building that would hold about three people in very close quarters. It really reminded me of a freight elevator. One afternoon she got into the elevator and punched the button for her floor. The door closed, but the elevator didn't move. She tried punching more buttons, but nothing happened. Nothing she did made the elevator move or the door open. This was not a modern elevator with emergency calling, so she began yelling and banging on the door. Finally, someone who was passing through the lobby heard her, but they had no luck opening the door. Unfortunately, she didn't have her cell phone with her, so she had to rely on the stranger on the other side of the door to relay a message to her boyfriend to let him know where she was. The stranger did call her boyfriend and also building maintenance. Her boyfriend came and sat in the lobby and talked to her through the door as they waited for someone to come and fix the elevator. Finally, after a couple of hours of waiting he called maintenance again and discovered that the stranger had reported the broken elevator but failed to let them know that someone was trapped inside! Finally, maintenance came, and my daughter got out. How sweet that the guy she would eventually marry talked to her through a broken elevator door to keep her from going crazy inside that cubicle.
These stories didn't involve flowers or candy or candlelight dinners, but they said romance to me because they showed that these guys really cared about my girls. Do you have any real life romantic stories to tell?
Merrillee
Labels: Crohn's disease, love, romantic stories
posted by Merrillee @ 6:29 AM
13 Comments:
It's always the little things that are romantic to me. Not the chocolate and flowers (although I NEVER refuse them!). But it's a man who will stand in the kitchen and munch the leftover cold fish sticks from the kids' dinner and say, "This is fine," when you say, "I'll get you some real dinner." Offering to take over the 3AM feeding without the subject coming up is romantic.
My Swiss Army knife story has made the rounds, but just proving you've listened (without someone grabbing you by the ears and being nose to nose) is romantic.
I think the most romantic words a man can utter might be, "Dinner will be ready in 20 minutes." Even more romantic if they're delivered along with a glass of wine.
Wow, your girls hit the husband jackpot. What great stories!
Here's my favorite real-life romantic story.
In 1956 a young airman was stationed in Germany with two brothers from Alabama. One day a framed photo of a young lady appeared on one of the brothers' desks. The airman asked :
"Who is the pretty girl?"
The brothers said :
That's no girl. That's our sister."
The airman said :
"Can't be. No girl that pretty could be related to you two."
Eventually he asked if he could write to the young lady. So soon after WWII girls back home felt it was their patriotic duty to write to soldiers overseas.
He wrote to the girl and she wrote back. They wrote to each other for over a year - sometimes two and three letters a week.
When the airman's tour was up he came home to Pennsylvania. He only stayed a few days. He told his folks he was going to Alabama to get married. He hadn't met the girl. He hadn't even proposed. He did, however, buy a gorgeous engagement ring and wedding band in Germany. In England he bought a set of silver and had the handles engraved with his initials and the pretty girl's initials.
They met on May 4th. They had one date. They married May 11th. For forty years they lived and loved all over the world. We never heard my parents argue. We did hear lots of laughter and I love you's. Ten years ago that great romantic airman's heart gave out and my Mom still misses him every day.
Is it any wonder I believe in the power and romance of the written word? It's the whole reason I'm here.
Louisa,
What a wonderful story. You made me a little teary-eyed. That's why I write romance.
Terry,
I love those words about dinner, too. You are right. Romance is about the little unexpected things.
Wow, Louisa, THAT is romantic and the teary best kind!
Merrillee, your daughters are definitely blessed!
One of my dear friends is taken for pizza on her anniversary because that was their first date. Her DH has made it possible for her to attend several LOTR events, though he did not go himself. He knew it was important to her. Another friend finds it very romantic that her DH brings her coffee, in bed, every morning, to help her start the day.
~Judy
Louisa, That story was lovely and definitely left me misty-eyed.
Merrillee, your girls are very fortunate. I hope my own someday find such keepers.
Reading this reminded me of two stories about my hubby. He is much more New England stoic than romantic, so I was totally surprised when he brought me roses to celebrate my first GH final.
The other flower story is much more typical of him. One Mother's Day he gave me a bouquet of purple statice.
I couldn't figure out why he'd bought me flowers that basically looked like weeds, but I bit my tongue and acted appreciative. It was many years later that I found out how sweet a gesture it really was. My girls had told him I loved lilacs best so he went out looking. He honestly thought that's what he'd bought - even though he couldn't figure out why I liked dead looking flowers.
Ladyhawk,
I know someone else whose husband brings her coffee in bed each morning. It is a sweet gesture.
MaryC,
I loved your story about the supposed lilacs. I love lilacs, too, but they don't grow here in Florida. I miss their wonderful fragrance.
My hubby gave me roses after I got my first rejection. Those are the kinds of things that really are romantic.
Merrillee,
Loved your stories! And the pictures of your daughters' wedding days.
Louisa,
Your parents' love story made me teary-eyed, too!
Two great love stories, Merrillee.
Wow, Louisa, you did cause me to get all choked up...wonderful story.
Mary C., LOL on the lilacs. Very cute...
It is in my weakest moments that I am reminded of my husband's love.
Through illness, loss of loved ones, and a myriad of personal frustrations, he is my first hero.
Always... the shell is old and tired, but on the inside, he's my hugh jackman, my viggo, my hero.
Christine,
Thanks for sharing the thoughts about your hero husband.
the shell is old and tired, but on the inside, he's my hugh jackman, my viggo, my hero.
I love the way you phrased that, Christine.
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