Love Grows Stronger through the Ages

By Linda Sherwood

It's Valentine's Day and I can't help but wonder what he plans to buy for his wife. Or if he'll remember the first woman he ever loved — me. I know his wife and I won't be receiving any diamonds or even a cheap heart-shaped necklace. After all, he doesn't even have a job. But you can't hold that against him. I think it may even be illegal for him to work. After all, my son's only six.

That's right — my 6-year-old son has a wife, or so I've been told. I wasn't invited to the wedding. It happened on the playground during recess. One of the fifth graders presided over the wedding. The bride wore a white veil.

I heard this as I was driving somewhere and all four of my children were in the back of my minivan. One of his sisters told me. I was ready to dismiss it, but my son took the time to assure me.

"Yep Mom," he piped up. "I'm married, but I'm still going to live with you and Daddy."

He was so grown-up sounding when he said this, and I couldn't help but chuckle to myself. I couldn't resist expressing mock-horror, "You were married and I wasn't invited?"

He's 6. Love is so easy at 6.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not pushing my 6-year-old to really have a relationship. There will be no marathon phone sessions or broken hearts. It is what it is, a cute story I can share with family and friends and a few thousand readers, and we can all get a good laugh.

Love at 6 is clean, simple and sweet. There's no mess to clean up when the love's gone. There's no struggle to keep it. Love gets messier as we grow older.

My shortest relationship ever was when I was a middle school student. He was my boyfriend all of six hours (the length of a school day). I'm not sure if we ever actually talked to one another when we were "going steady," but I know for sure that my best friend and his best friend talked to each other a lot that day.

In high school, I actually talked to my boyfriends and even went out on dates. Sometimes, however, I still relied on my friend to handle the hard stuff. When I was in ninth grade, I remember crying during lunch hour as I had my best friend go over and hand my boyfriend a break-up note. I was in high school, and the tears had started to flow and hearts were broken.

I was a senior in high school when I started dating my husband. By then, I didn’t rely on my friends to pass messages, good or bad. That may be why I can say we've been together for more than 15 years and married for 10. When I think back to my teen-age self who thought she was in love with him at 17, I laugh out loud. I was a teen-ager in love, and I still had a lot to learn.

I remember on my wedding day, as I waited to walk down the aisle, I wasn't nervous. I knew I was marrying the man I loved. The man I was meant to love for the rest of my life. I had no qualms, not a single one. There could be no greater love than the love I felt for him on Sept. 10, 1994, I thought.

And today, on Valentine's Day 2005, I'm very happy to laugh out loud at that bride I used to be. What did she know about love? I have to give credit though; at 22 I did know without reservations we were meant to be husband and wife.

Love gets complicated and messy with age, but it also gets better. I wouldn't want it any other way. And I hope this Valentine's Day, my 6-year-old Romeo doesn't forget the truly important love of his life – me.

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