Part 11: The Ties That Bind

My grandfather and I have never been close; he was always of the opinion that children were women's business, and therefore, had nothing to do with him. He would sit in the living room watching the evening news while my grandma took care of my brother and I. He was always a solemn man with very little to say and even less to smile about. I remember watching him from an adjacent room in their large, country home, and often wondered what he was thinking about or how his life had been when he was younger.

I don't know much about my grandfather's life when he was my age, but I do know that he had served in the army and was stationed in Hawaii during the war. He saw less fighting than most, but did see breathtaking Hawaiian landscapes and volumptuous, dark women. After months of being there, he fell in love with one of those women and wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his life with her.

Keep in mind that my grandfather was born and raised in a strong Baptist family from the South. When he brought news home that he had fallen in love, his family scorned him for falling in love with someone who was not only of a different race, but also of a different religious denomination, and an entirely different social class. He was forbidden to ever see her again, and, being an obedient young man, he respected his parents' wishes and walked away from that love. His parents set him up with my grandmother - an upper class white woman who attended the same Baptist church - and they were married in the fall of 1947.

My grandparents have been married for 59 years and still going strong, but I've often wondered if they've ever truly been in love with each other. They've had 3 children, but have separate bedrooms; I've never seen them kiss or touch or even say "I love you" to one another, yet their marriage has lasted far beyond most and has been really quite successful.

Perhaps this is what sparked my curiosity about whether or not love is a choice as opposed to chemical reactions and nauseating stomach churns. Well, it's been a grueling mental battle ever since.

Is self-sacrifice the basis of true love, or is true love the basis of self-sacrifice?