I’ll never forget the time I had the chance to see the cabin where Lincoln was born. I was nine years old.
It had a dirt floor. Cool, I thought, his mom can’t yell at him for tracking dirt into the house.
It wasn’t the “real” cabin,of course, but a symbolic reconstruction in Central Kentucky to honor our sixteenth President.
I grew up in different parts of the US…but my favorite time was in Lexington, Kentucky.
We lived in what I called the “Civil War” house. It was a big ole home out in the boonies with a barn and plenty of Kentucky bluegrass. According to the locals, the antebellum house was built before the Civil War.
Over the years, the house had different owners, but it never lost its splendor in my eyes. Sure, it was run-down and the plumbing more often than not didn’t work. God knows, it was cold in the winter, but my dad–a historical buff–rented it for as long as my poor mom could take it. It wasn’t easy for her with no dishwasher or washer and an old, wood burning stove with a husband and two kids to take care of. No neighbors for what seemed like miles.
I loved it.
I’d race around the house with fireplaces taller than I was for hours, pretending I was hosting tea with fancy ladies or meeting that special gentleman in what I called my “secret” room. Wearing my mother’s long dresses, I dreamed of being a true Southern belle (years later I got my own authentic hoop skirt from the costume department when I was doing theater).
So it’s no wonder I followed my heart and wrote my own Civil War novel — “The Bride Wore Gray.” It’s a time travel romance where my modern day heroine, Liberty Jordan, meets up with her ancestor–who looks exactly like her! The only problem is, Pauletta Sue, is a Southern spy…
Valentine’s Day is coming up and I won’t be with my husband, I’ll be on a writing trip with friends. I’m not too worried about it though. I mostly think of Valentine’s Day as a Hallmark holiday.
That being said, I don’t think you can say “I love you” too much. You never know when it will be the last time, but more than that, expressing to someone that you love them forms and shapes and repairs the foundation of your relationship.
But what does it mean?
This year, the day before Valentine’s Day is Ash Wednesday, the beginning of Lent in the Christian faith. Lent is a time of repentance, turning from the wrongs of the past, and pressing closer to God. It’s a reminder that God loves us so much that he’d be willing to take a bullet to keep us safe.
That’s the kind of love many romance writers weave into their stories every day. It’s most obvious in romantic suspense where one person can literally take a bullet for the other. But it’s in all the other stories where someone says, I’m sorry, I made a mistake, and the other person says, I forgive you because I love you. And then they grow closer than ever.
I love those stories!
Some people theorize that the reason people respond to stories of love and sacrifice and forgiveness and happily ever after is because we are wired that way. Our enjoyment of such stories opens our hearts to the possibility that those tales represent the Truth of why we are here. We are loved, we made mistakes, a sacrifice was made on our behalf so that we wouldn’t be lost forever, forgiveness was offered, and happily ever after is ours for eternity.
That’s a pretty amazing love story. Loved forever. I want that.
Much as I can’t wait for my writing trip, I’m going to miss my husband. I’ll miss waking up beside him every morning, trying to be the first one to say “I love you.” I’ll miss how much he makes me laugh. And as much as I’ll try to deny it, I’ll miss how much he teases me to the point of losing my mind.
Because somewhere in the layers of all of those things, I’ve found a taste of what love is all about – someone who sacrifices to make my life better, who always forgives me, who wants to be with me forever, no matter what.
Love is the answer to why I am here. It’s the answer to why I write about love.
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I was thinking I should learn a new language.
You know what they say, keep the mind active, learning, getting exercised. Maybe Spanish? My year of Spanish in 8th grade was a hazy memory, and learning Spanish through the advertisements on the New York Subway had not been a successful foray in effective communication….
Cucarachas? Mandelos a un Motel!
Not the best way to win friends and influence people (unless, of course, they are Spanish speaking cockroaches).
But then as I struggled with vocabulary words, grammar and syntax, I realized I was already in the middle of learning a new language: Tech.
When people (of a certain age) say they find technology confusing, daunting, that they’re not good at it, I don’t think they’ve taken on board that Tech is a new language. Would you expect to be able to speak a new language fluently after an hour’s class?
I didn’t think so.
If anyone complained that even after many hours of learning French they were unable to read a novel, watch TV, or that they were unable to speak quickly and fluently, articulating their every nuanced point, most people would think: Huh? It takes more than a few hours to become fluent in a new language!
This point is not to discourage non techfluent types, but just a request that everyone realign their self expectations to a more reasonable level. To stop beating up on themselves because they are harboring absurdly high expectations of fluency, and appreciate learning tech, like learning a new language, is a process.
And the language metaphor doesn’t stop there. As countless childhood development research statistics have indicated, when we are young, our ability to acquire new languages is remarkable. Thus everyone that has grown up learning the language of Tech has internalized it fairly effortlessly.
I can recall my horror and distress when I came across my first French child, a six year old, and I could not fathom how it could have learned French so well at the age of six, when I was still struggling at the age of 21 after years of classes.
Thus many of those that have grown up speaking Tech and are now explaining it to you may find your struggles incomprehensible. It’s easy. It’s natural. It’s intuitive. It’s obvious. Sure different dialects (games, new programs, operating systems, upgrades) can present a challenge, but for many, the challenge is fun to overcome. Just like people enjoy learning new languages, or new vocabularies, or new accents and idioms. But it’s often not so easy for a non-native speaker.
And as it’s a new language, it is constantly changing, adding new words, sprouting new dialects right and left, even the basics changing and morphing to fit this brave new world. It is going to take all my efforts to build my vocabulary and figure out how to effectively communicate and make myself understood.
Parlez-vous tech?
Oui! Un petit peu….
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