The Gift of the Magi - A Different Love Story
Today my parents would have been married 56 years. My observations of their love story, from my archives, before my mom was diagnosed:
In the story The Gift of The Magi, author O. Henry writes a tale of a young married couple with little money who want to purchase gifts for each other at Christmas. The wife wants to buy her husband a chain for his pocket watch so sells her waist-length hair to get the money for it. Without his wife's knowledge, the husband sells his watch in order to purchase tortoiseshell hair combs for her beautiful, long hair.
It is a well-known story with the traditional O. Henry surprise ending that ties all the loose ends together.
My current college fiction professor cautioned our class about writing a story like The Gift of The Magi, since life is rarely so neat and tidy.
I would agree.
But as a writer, I want to write a Gift of the Magi ending for my parents. Yet I find, I cannot.
Because their story, like all great love stories, is much more complicated.
Instead of hair accessories, my dad wants to give my mom the gift of more years so that she will not be left a widow. He is considering radiation for his melanoma even though the side effects are daunting and the treatment may only extend life, not cure the disease.
Instead of a watch, my mom wants my dad to consider all the options, to decide if the sacrifice of his quality of life is worth the treatment to gain more time. She constantly asks questions of the doctors, makes lists, pushes for answers.
This is where their love has taken them.
They met at Concordia College in Moorhead, Minnesota where they both worked in the cafeteria. One served fruit and the other ice cream. According to my dad, "It's been peaches and cream ever since."
Their love led them to an altar in a Lutheran church, holding hands and promising vows: For better, for worse, For richer, for poorer, In sickness and in health, Until death do us part.
Now fifty-three and a half years of bills and mortgage payments and four children and thirteen grandchildren and working and laughing and crying and believing God later, this is where they find themselves--
Each wanting to selflessly give to the other—a bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things kinda love found in First Corinthians 13:7.
I want to grab the pencil and erase words like melanoma and radiation and cancer from their love story. I want to write instead about watches and hair clips and throw in some red roses and chocolates and peaches and cream and tie up all the loose ends. If I were the author, this is what I'd do.
But life doesn't work that way.
And if I were honest, I would have to admit an O. Henry story would not begin to touch the edges of the depths of love between my parents that I have had the privilege to witness.
I find myself without words.
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This story originally appeared in the
Gila River Review Literary Journal.
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Update on my mom: Not much new news, which is a good thing, in my opinion. We are gearing up for family coming this week for Thanksgiving, beginning tomorrow. There will be 19 around our table for the weekend, including all of Mom's five great-grandchildren (2 babies and 3 toddlers - let the fun begin!). Our plans mainly involve sitting around and eating too much food and surrounding ourselves with glorious LIFE!
Earlier in the year Dad and Mom chose to sponsor a day of broadcasting today on the Christian radio station in their area - to celebrate 56 years of marriage. That sponsorship will still happen. In my dad's memory. The radio station called to talk to Mom about it yesterday.