The word “lovers” always gave me the heebiejeebies – a salacious, lewd associating with clandestine, immoral entanglements. But as I got older (and maybe more emotionally stable) and as I understood love as it was meant to be (ref: 1 Corinthians 13:4-8), then this word suddenly became such a clear honey- hued safe word. To cherish and to hold— how comforting, this deep seated warmth that spreads from your navel to your ears.
“Lovers” is no longer an image of naked writhing bodies atop shrewn sheets (although, and I cannot lie, This is a wonderful image too – not lascivious, but fulfilling) but of D holding my hand through the c-sect with G, or his Whisper behind my ear when I was straining in labour with E, of Long walks we’ve taken with unknown destinations, or the many hours we have spent staring out at sea.
Especially these crazy days with E battling her night terrors or vivid dreams, and G waking up every H-O-U-R, we forget we are to be loving each other first, above all else, before all else. It’s easy to be swarmed with love for the children, we forget we have to work at love with our spouse.
Before we were “Daddy” and “Mummy”, we were “Mister” and “Missus”. Before we were “Mister” and “Misses”, we were “Boyfriend” and “Girlfriend”. Before we were “Boyfriend” and “Girlfriend” we were “friends”.
In between doctor’s visits (for us, not the kids), we stole time off to go for a nice breakfast: this is as close to our anniversary meal as we got, and I’m glad we went for it, despite the intense morning we both had (waking up at 5!)
This was way too early for both of us, but we wanted to remember we were more than just “daddy” and “mummy” and that first and foremost we are lovers, and friends.
It was nice to just sit and chat (nothing about toddlers or infants) and remember that. To share a laugh, to talk about our work and our plans, and to tease about my incredibly child-like palate.