I had just turned 19 when I first laid eyes on him. He had interrupted my studying with his loud laughter and talking. These were unforgivable sins in my studious and serious mindset, not to mention it was a Saturday night, in the far back corner of the top floor of the Baylor library.
I slammed my books together, intending to glare at him as I walked by, but he was sitting with people I knew, and they were quick to introduce us. We chatted briefly, and when I walked into the lobby, I was no longer annoyed. That was my first sign that I was in trouble.
Like a word you just learned that suddenly appears everywhere, I bumped into him at every turn those last few days of the spring semester. He was handsome and charming, genuine and caring.
This is where our love story began. At the sight of him, I felt butterflies. When he held my hand, my palms sweated. The excitement and shine of a new relationship is the stuff we see romanticized in TV shows and movies with roses and candlelight and constant discovery.
But, what of the glory of old love? It gets so little airtime, but maybe that’s because old love no longer demands attention. As the years go by and the feelings settle in, I’ve found contentment in the familiarity and stability born from the mundane that comes after the sparks fly.
Where I once thrilled at the unknown ahead with someone I was getting to know, I now find a security from all the things we’ve experienced in our nearly 29 years together. We love to talk about those early days, sharing them with our children and others. We laugh hysterically about that time I was the first one to say I love you — and he replied thank you. Though humiliated in the moment it’s now a mile marker of the paths we’ve traveled.
In the beginning, I put my best foot forward. I carefully did my hair and make-up and selected my clothes with care. The glory of old love is in the fact that we’ve seen each other at our worst — bad hair days, no make-up, morning breath, and all. There’s no need for pretense or facades. Old love is wide enough for authenticity, and it holds no fear of rejection.
Hollywood plays a soundtrack of love with grand orchestral swells and emotions, but it misses the quiet background music of a familiar song that includes the harmony and melody born from minor and major notes. Early love belts its sound, while old love is a tune you can hum endlessly.
The glory of our old love is that it is grown in the incubator of shared joys. We relish the happiness of a magnificent wedding day, the wonder of our newborn babies, the delight of a first home, and big exciting trips to foreign countries. And in the years shared, we’ve survived loss and heartache, scares and anxiety, health issues, disappointments, and even moments of despair. We’ve walked through every high and low together, still holding hands, still choosing each other, day after day.
There are deep roots that have grown over the years, as our love has grown big and tall, and we can both find and offer shade to others through the fruit and branches the years have brought.
This is the glory of old love. It’s not the same as a pristine, new romance. But like a worn-in sweatshirt, there’s a comfort like no other when you wrap yourself in it.
