The Dedalus Log

I found a diary that I began on February 26, 1974. The diary described 22 days in February and March (during the first oil crisis), when I was crazy in love. I was 27 years old, and in love for the first time in my life with the most enchanting and beautiful girl in the world. How could I not fall in love with this lovely, young beauty, named Kathleen Mavourneen? She had Las Vegas Showgirl legs and figure, with a gorgeous, beaming, Irish-American face. She was smart, fearless, caring, and funny. I knew I was in love after our third date.

The daily entries described how I missed her, and longed for her, but, at the same time, refused to show it, or admit it to myself. I called or visited her almost every day during those 22 days. I missed her and she missed me. We knew we were in love, but still unsure about Love. I would say the words, “I love you”, but still question the depth of its meaning. I was frustrated when we were unable to see each other for three days, then dazzled by her presence and beauty when we met. We had long talks when we met, and when we spoke on the telephone. These talks were comfortable and soothing conversations, with vulnerable honesty. However, telephone calls could not replace physical proximity, and they would only make her absences worse.

The days I described in these pages were days of contrasts and extremes. On many days, I was obsessed with thoughts and longings for Kathy, and on other days, I acted indifferently toward her. I was restless and impatient to see her, talk to her, hold and touch her. Yet, I would find myself, against my better judgment, trying to prove to myself that I was not completely bewitched by this clean limbed, high spirited girl.

As I read this long forgotten diary, I was struck by what a tumultuous time it was for Kathy and me! We were on roller coasters of desires, emotions, doubts, and fears, which sometimes went in opposite directions. It was also the period when our relationship reached its most critical point. Emotions and desires were moving so fast, faster than the rational mind could process or understand, that Kathy called a halt. In a lonely parking structure in Santa Monica, on a Sunday afternoon, Kathy’s uncertainty brought our relationship to a stop. Her doubts and confusion caught me by surprise, and I was stunned by my panic and fear. I could not envision existence without her in my life. I didn’t contradict her, I didn’t press her to reconsider, and I did not dismiss her feeling and doubts. Despite my fears, I gave her the freedom to choose, all the time praying that she would choose me. I stopped pretending cool detachment of my love and my need for Kathleen. I had to trust, and be confident of the love we had ignited and expressed to each other. Putting aside my wants, needs, and desires, I tried to demonstrate care, understanding, and love toward my beloved. By the end of the diary, our relationship began to mature, becoming more honest and open.

There was tons of emotional stuff in those 22 days. I tried to sift out some of the major themes and tendencies, but only one thing stood out; I was just crazy in love. Where did we go from that time in 1974? What happened from being crazy in love to now, going from 27 years of age to 59? Am I still crazy in love, today? No, thank God! I don’t think I could take that intensity of passion and desire again. It was all consuming. I couldn’t bear to be parted from Kathy in those days. I had to see, touch, or talk to her at least once a day. I was truly obsessed and in love. This was white-hot, passion. This was the steaming, molten lava type of love which can only cool after many, many years. The calming years was the time after we married: years of discovery, childbirths, parenting, wonders, challenges, and achievements. These were the middle age years that quieted the eruptions of passions and the desires of youth, and left a peaceful island of happiness and tranquility. Our marriage evolved into a family, a home, and a fulfilling life together.

Do I love Kathy like I did in 1974? Yes and No. If Love is a boundless capacity for joy, honesty, patience, and caring, the answer is yes. If love is obsessive desires and passions, the answer is no. I’m not besotted like I was in 1974. But I still cannot envision living without her. That has never changed. I can’t imagine a life without her presence – and I always “see” her as I remember her in 1974. That is the “imago”, the final image, of Kathy that is burned into my soul.

I remember a scene from a movie I saw called “The Four Poster”, with Rex Harrison and Lilli Palmer. The movie portrayed the married life of a man and woman through time, within the setting of their four poster bed and the bedroom. It is a love story through time, showing how Love evolves, grows, changes, and matures. In the last scene. Lilli Palmer, who dies earlier in the movie, appears to Rex Harrison, on his death bed. He notices that she looks exactly as she did when they first fell in love. She explains that this is how Love affects the soul, and it is how he will always “see” her. When Harrison dies, and rises from the four poster bed, he too is suddenly transformed into the handsome youth he was when first enchanted by Love.

So, perhaps, Love is eternal, and it magically transforms the amorphous soul into the “imago” of the person we fall in love with. I see aspects of that "imago" in Kathy all the time: when she turns and looks askance at me, when she laughs, the twinkle in her eyes, and when she soothes the pain and hurt of a family member or friend.

On this Valentine’s Day in 2007, all I can say is:

“I Love you, Kathleen Mavourneen, as much today as on the first day I Loved you”.