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One Moment
Please "So, how do you develop a relationship?" This question was asked of me when I was doing a Relationship Service seminar for the YMCA. I have to admit that the question caught me off guard for a brief second. We had been talking "theory" all day and this woman wanted some concrete methods for developing client or, for that matter, any relationship. After pausing for a minute to collect my thoughts, I stated that the only thing I could do was tell her the truth from my experience. Somewhat shyly, I began to tell her the story of how my wife and I saved our relationship. My mind flashed back to a time when Karen and I were at a State Fair and I won two red velvet hearts as a consolation prize in one of the midway games. I broke apart the two hearts and gave one to Karen and kept one for myself. We had been married for 10 years and were going through a bit of a "flat spot" in our relationship. We still loved each other, but something was missing. Karen did not want the "flatness" to continue so one day she came up with a plan. She took one of the hearts and hid it in my towel while I was taking a shower. When I went to grab my towel, the red heart spilled out. As I bent down to pick it up, I was overcome with a rush of emotion that made me flash back to the time when I won the red hearts and the love we felt for each other at that moment. I then hid the heart in her sock drawer. She hid it in my underwear drawer. I hid it in the refrigerator. She wrapped it in plastic wrap and hid it in the peanut butter. Hiding the heart became as much fun as finding it. Each time we hid or found it was a moment to be treasured, like the first moment we fell in love or the first moment we kissed or the first moment we looked into our child's eyes. Each is a cherished and precious moment. How do you develop a relationship? One moment at a time! Love Is
Stronger... Having a goal based on love is the greatest life insurance in the world. If you had asked my dad why he got up in the morning, you would have found his answer disarmingly simple: "To make my wife happy." Mom and Dad met when they were nine. Every day before school, they met on a park bench with the homework. Mom corrected Dad's English and he did the same with her math. Upon graduation, their teachers said that the two of them were the best "student" in the school. Note the singular! They took their time building their relationship, even though Dad always knew she was the girl for him. Their first kiss occurred when they were 17, and their romance continued to grow into their 80s. Just how much power their relationship created was brought to light in 1964. The doctor told Dad he had cancer and estimated that he had six months to one year left at the most. "Sorry to disagree with you, Doc," my father said. "But I'll tell you how long I have. One day longer than my wife. I love her too much to leave the planet without her." And so it was, to the amazement of everyone who didn't really know this love-matched pair, that Mom passed away at the age of 85 and Dad followed one year later when he was 86. Near the end, he told my brothers and me that those 17 years were the best six months he ever spent. To the wonderful doctors and nurses at the Department of Veterans' Affairs Medical Center at Long Beach, he was a walking miracle. They kept a loving watch on him and just couldn't understand how a body so riddled with cancer could continue to function so well. My dad's explanation was simple. He informed them that he had been a medic in World War I and saw amputated arms and legs, and he had noticed that none of them could think. So he decided he would tell his body how to behave. Once, as he stood up and it was evident he felt a stabbing pain, he looked down at his chest and shouted, "Shut up! We're having a party here." Two days before he left us he said, "Boys, I'll be with your mother very soon and someday, some place we'll all be together again. But take your time about joining us; your mother and I have a lot of catching up to do." It is said that love is stronger than prison walls. Dad proved it was a heck of a lot stronger than tiny cancer cells. We need articles, poetry and
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