One of my favorite stories that my grandmother used to tell is the one about how I was almost never born because it gave me a chance to really think how I almost became George Bailey for real.
Well, okay ... maybe not exactly like George Bailey, since I wouldn't have even had a life up to a certain, desperate adult moment when an angel finally decided to make me his pet project. I would have just ceased as the DNA of a future me right there in my great-grandfather's scrotum. Bet you never thought you'd read those words ever; bet you'll never get that image out of your head now either!
And it wouldn't have just been me trapped forever in my great-grandfather's scrotum, no siree! My grandmother, my mother, both of my mother's brothers and all of my grandmother's brothers, along all of our combined descended progeny. That's quite a crowd, when you think about it. No wonder dudes are always trying to lighten that load!
Anyway, it all almost never started in Ireland around the turn of the last century...
When my great-grandfather Michael was just a lad of about 12 or so, he had a chance meeting with a buddy's cousin, whose name was Honorah. She was visiting from a far off county (or at least things seemed far off without cars and internets and shit), but Michael was instantly smitten, and he confided to his friend that he would marry the beautiful Honorah someday.
A few years went by without the two meeting again, when Michael's buddy received a picture of his now quite mature cousin, Honorah. Michael insisted on having her address, so that he could begin his courtship at last. The only problem was that they were poor and the distance between them seemed huge, especially when you don't have money, or cars, or telephones, or high speed internet, or hoverpods and teleporters (for those of you reading this in the future).
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| Michael and Honorah |
One thing remained: they had not met face to face since they were kids. Knowing that had to be remedied anyhow, if he was to marry this fine woman, Michael scraped together all the money he could to afford to travel to her home town.
When Honorah finally laid eyes on the man of her dreams, she was devastated to discover the one thing they never discussed in all their missives: Michael was a good two inches shorter than Honorah! She was heart broken. How could she face her friends and family with this news? And how could she ever consider marrying a man shorter than her, when she was such a handsome woman with so many other, taller (but less hilarious) suitors lining up to make her their wife. She refused his offer and sent Michael away crushed.
With much time to kill before he could use his return ticket home, Michael spent a good portion of the day wandering around Honorah's town and thinking of all the things about her that brought him there. He loved her, that was still very clear to him, and he resolved to not leave without winning her back. But how?
In a small shop, he found his answer: a novelty postcard (for kids reading today, that would be like someone sending a Someecard to your smartphone; for those reading in the future, it would be like when the holographic LOLbot triggers a digital mind modem tingle, which in turn brings forth a giggle and one, sometimes two drops of pee from you).
He would win her back the same way she fell for him before -- by making her laugh without even being there.
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| "A Curious Love Letter" |
The great love I have hitherto expressed for you
is false, and I find my indifference towards you
increases daily. The more I see of you the more
you appear in my eyes an object of contempt
I feel myself every way disposed and determined
to hate you. Believe me, I never had an intention
to offer you my hand. Our last conversation has
left a tedious insipidity, which has by no means
given me the most exalted idea of your character.
Your temper would make me extremely unhappy,
and were we united I should experience nothing but
the hatred of my parents, added to everlasting dis-
pleasure in living with you. I have, indeed, a heart
to bestow, but I do not desire you to imagin it
at your service. I could not give it to any one more
inconsistent and capricious than yourself and less
capable to do honour to my choice and family.
Yes, I hope you will be persuaded that
I speak sincerely, and you will do me a favour
to avoid me. I shall excuse you taking the trouble
to answer this: your letters are always full of
impertinence, and you have not a shadow of
wit and good sense. Adieu! Adieu! Believe me
so averse to you that it is impossible for me ever
to be your most affectionate friend and humble
servant.
P.S.-After reading the above commence again,
and read every alternate line to the end.
Today, some of Michael's DNA is the proud keeper of that very postcard that united those two lovebirds, and I'm very grateful to be able to recount this story for you from outside of that scrotum!
Life's interesting twists and turns and ups and downs can be the darnedest things, and many of us probably sit and wonder "what if" for many moments of our lives. I know one small, lovely snippet of how I almost didn't come into being*, and I look at how I'm still coming into being, and at all the wonderful ways people come together.
I don't have an ending to this piece because, at this point in my newly redefined/defining sense of love and place in this world, understanding it all is quite beyond my abilities -- hence the title!** This is merely a chance to celebrate how funny, seemingly random, but really magical love truly is!
*Along with knowing far too much detail about how I directly came into being via the cramped, sweaty moments my parents shared at the drive-in, while conceiving me either during a screening of AIRPORT or MASH. I will refrain from drawing any conclusions between my life and a disaster movie or a war film with the theme, "Suicide Is Painless."
**Mostly, I've just been looking for a chance to work in "a huckleberry over my persimmon" anywhere I can.
