I work in a doctor’s office. A gastroenterology practice. For the most part, our patients are of a certain age. Yes, seniors. The administrative part of my job is to check these patients in, make sure their insurance is in order, collect the proper paperwork, and of course take their co-pay.

But that’s only secondary to what I think is the most important part. For me, I think it’s more important to welcome them, to give them a warm smile, to make them feel comfortable and maybe ease their anxiety for just a little bit.

I’m a lover. I love being in love and all the feelings that go along with it. The happiness, the warmth, the gaze when you look into each other’s eyes and know there is no one else in the world for you. The feeling of being safe, when you’re wrapped in each other’s arms, the intimacy that you share with each other through your words and your bodies. The sparks that you still feel when you hold each other’s hands just like it was the very first time. The way, your heart races when you know you’ll be together soon. The beautiful side of love, the pretty side, the side we long for.

I’ve had this twice in my life. The first time was with my high school sweetheart and we dated for 3 1/2 years. And then there was Mike the one I was meant to be with. I truly hope that you have had this kind of love in your life. Having said all this, I’m a realist. There’s the arguments, disagreements, disappointments, the periods of silence, the loneliness and the heartbreak. I’ve had all this happen to me also. But that’s what love is…both sides of the same coin.

On Thursday I witnessed what I like to call “real love.” The love that hangs in there when all of the things that I mentioned above are no longer part of life’s definition of love. Mr. & Mrs. W had an appointment. They are both in their late 80’s. Mr. W is pushing Mrs. W in her wheelchair. He comes up to my window and he smiles at me and I smile back. Mrs. W is not smiling. I explain to him he has to fill out the paperwork. It’s for Mrs. W, who has the appointment. He wheels her over to a seat and begins to fill out the paperwork. All the while keeping a pleasantness on his face. The medical assistant calls them and he pushes her wheelchair into the exam room. There’s one form he needs fill out for me and I bring it to him in the exam room. He smiles at me and I smile back. We exchange a few pleasant words. I look over at Mrs. W. and there’s no expression on her face. In my mind, I think of the words “empty vessel“ but somewhere inside of her there still is life. I smile at her but I don’t get a reaction. I want to tell her what a lovely dress she’s wearing, but I don’t.

That’s the real love I witnessed. When the fun, beauty, excitement, desire, intimacy and romance aren’t enough anymore. When Mike and I were involved in marriage encounter, we were told that “love is not just a feeling, love is a decision.” It’s the decision to stay and not leave. It’s the decision to dig in your heels and face the hard stuff. It’s the decision that you make when you know this partner of yours is still the love of your life. No longer young, no longer handsome or beautiful, no longer healthy but still your love. Mr. W still looked at Mrs. W with love in his eyes. I could just tell. Real love that remains long after we have spoken our vows or promised our love in a different way or tradition.

Why have I wanted to share this with you? I don’t know. I only know it’s been on my heart since Thursday and I can’t seem to let it go. Maybe because when I thought about my life, I thought Mike would be here to take care of me if I became ill. Now I wonder who’s gonna give me that comfort? I hope my children will but who knows?

Maybe some of you reading this have already had to go through this with your spouse or a loved one. Many of us had to live this “real love” when it came to making the decision to take our loved ones off life support, or the ventilator. Perhaps it was when we dropped them off at the hospital not knowing if we’ll ever see them again. Not knowing that this would be the last goodbye. Simply knowing that we would do whatever is needed (painful and difficult) to love them till the end. The real love that it took to be brave for them, to comfort them, and to assure them of our love forever when we weren’t allowed or could not be with them at the end of their lives.

To all of us whose lives will never be the same because of Covid, we have lived real love. We were strong when we had to be. We were advocates when we had to be and we were brave comforters in as much as this terrible virus would allow us to be. We carry-on one day at a time because that’s what our loved ones would want for us and we know that’s what we have to do. We have lost so much. We have lost a spouse, a partner, significant other. We have lost parents, children, grandparents, grandchildren, our relatives, and friends.

And so I will continue to be a lover. And I will still love the thought of being in love. And I will try my best every day to love those that are still with me, even when they piss me off or hurt me or ignore me. Because love is not just a feeling, real love is a decision.

My brother Johnny and I used to share so many memories, growing up in our home with our mother, father, grandmother, and grandfather. We were very close, like twins, and we often knew what the other was feeling or thinking.

My elderly mother is still alive but her memory is extremely poor. I now am the only one with all these memories since I have no other siblings to share them with. It did not have to be this way. Our country’s lack of preparation for a public health emergency such as Covid was shameful and in my opinion criminally negligent. I should still be sharing so many wonderful memories and moments with Johnny.

Mike knew I loved fresh flowers. And he brought me flowers for every occasion: my birthday, our anniversary, Mother’s Day, and every holiday. But the most precious and meaningful ones were brought home to me “just because.”

“I love you, I’m thinking of you, it’s the 1st day of spring, looking forward to our weekend, I’m sorry you’re not feeling well, bringing you some sunshine on this rainy day, I miss our snuggles, I’m sorry I hurt you, I miss you when we are apart, please come home safely to me, hope these brighten your day, forgive me, missed our phone chat today, let’s save some time for us this weekend” … and so many others that I can’t remember.

I have the very first card that came with a dozen red roses when we were dating six months until the last one he gave me on our 48th wedding anniversary on 8/5/2020. I never thought Mike would be gone in three months. I don’t know what inspired me to save these little cards over the years. When I counted them after he died there were over 440 of them. His love for me written down in 15-20 words or less “just because” and most of them signed with his signature sign-off: “Love always, Your Michael.”

My Michael, I’ll love you forever in my heart. We have lived out our vows to each other. Thank you for asking me to share this journey through life with you,
Your Gracie

My Dad knew how much I loved doing The NYTimes Sunday crossword puzzle at his house, always in ink. Every time I visited, there was sure to be a pile of the Sunday NYT magazine section. On the crossword page he always wrote something … like “Love, Dad” … or “Baby Carol.”

After he died, I didn’t think I would ever do it again, that it would be too painful. But then I realized that he would not want me to give up something I loved because of him. So I do the puzzle every day and think about him the whole time. I love you Dad and miss you so much.

I lost my beautiful, strong mommy on 2/17/21 to COVID-19. She was my best friend in the whole wide world. I’m completely lost without her. She was the best mother and grandmother in the world. Nothing is the same anymore.

She used to call us (my kids & me) every birthday and sing to us in her own special way. She loved holidays and now we never feel like celebrating. We miss her more than anything in this world.