Couvade Syndrome

Scout is getting older.  Slower.  Blind-er.  She tires easily and quickly.  She sleeps a lot.  She gets confused.
Sound like anyone else you know? 


Years and years ago I found a list of Top 100 Thinks to Do in the New Year.  One of them was to write your own love story: document how you met, fell in love, and married the person of your dreams to save it for posterity, your kids and grandkids (or, in our case, my niece and nephews, or the poor sucker who has to purge all our belongings from our home after we move to an old folk's farm).  I haven't done this, although we have quite the story to tell, and I've been meaning to.  Last night I came across a blog, The Pioneer Woman, who chronicles in bright detail the meeting and falling-in-love with her husband.  It was well-told and motivated me to start my own version.  Except.... I can't.  I don't remember it.  I remember the moment that I knew I was a goner and the moment that I knew that he realized he was a goner.  And the first kiss.  And the first time he told me he loved me.  And the solar plexus punch of physical pain when I said good-bye to go back to school.  But, like, our "dates"?  Phone calls?  What we did that summer?  Gone.


This may be normal, it may be my own version of canine-human Couvade Syndrome.  But I encourage you to write your own story now before you forget.  Your kid may one day be interested in the little details.  The first time you laid eyes on him.  Where were you?  What was playing on the radio?  How long did it take before you called him/he called you?  The special jeans you wore That Night because they made your *ss look fine.  The perfume she wore.  The smell of his mom's cooking the first time you met her.  My older sister knew she found home when C made her feel better about running over an old woman with her bike.  Kid Sister knew it back in high school when J touched the small of her back the night they watched the stars.  I knew it when My Beloved made it snow on a bright spring morning.  What was your Moment?


I love telling Our Story, but with each retelling to new acquaintances, I get better and better at editing it for brevity and maximum impact.  There's a lot of film left on the cutting room floor.  Please, for Buttercup's sake, take the opportunity to make the Director's Cut.  Don't edit a moment.  You have an amazing tale of romance and true love to tell.  Your kids will thank you for it.