Behind Every Great Man...

I know what you're thinking. "Oh great. He's writing again. I bet he's been hanging out in one of those creepy cemeteries again."

And you'd be right. I've probably spent too much time in cemeteries lately and it looks like there's more in store. I'm cool with it because so many of the people that I find interesting are dead.

My mom says it's because I have an old soul.

But you're in luck. That's not what this post is about. This post is about life and one of the most important lessons I've learned in life. I didn't learn it in school. I didn't learn it from a book or a documentary or a battlefield tour or a museum.

I learned it from life.

A few weeks ago, I was part of a discussion with a young man who was explaining a recent break-up. The girl is beautiful and we discussed what a great personality she had. We talked about how many guys would love to date the young lady. We might have even questioned his judgement just a bit but then conceded that he was the one that had to live with the decision, either way. He told us that the biggest cause for the relationship's demise was the fact that they were "too good as friends to be involved in that way."

Hmm.

Now, I'm a guy. My friends are guys. Some are coworkers and some I met in college. I met some at church and some I met online. I'm blessed to have two that have known me about as long as I've known myself - so much so that I just think of them as two of my brothers. It's good to have these friendships as the world can be a cruel, lonely place. A friend is someone that you can disagree with, argue with, fight and even, at times, say some of the worst things imaginable. But then it passes. you're both still there. For me, a friend is someone that you know you can count on no matter what. Thick and thin, good and bad, friends are there.

Over the last 16 years, give or take, I have learned that my best friend is not a guy. She lives at my house. My kids look a little like her. We've been through thin and bad and dark and scary and even a little bit of miserable. That's not to say that there hasn't been good times. We have had some very good times but we've had a least our share of challenges. And what we have learned from that is that we can count on each other.

It's not thought to be very masculine for a guy to speak of his wife that way. We are supposed to think that women are attractive and beautiful and nice and fun to touch but they get on our nerves and we don't want the rest of the guys to think we like them all that much. I guess that even while we re staring 40 in the face we still fear catching cooties or something. But I've reached a point in my life that as I look at the years ahead and know what challenges lie before me (as well as wonder about those which I don't know about) and the prospect of old age that I have one person in my corner, in my foxhole, at me side.

Looking at history we see men that thought similarly about their mates like Robert Toombs, John Adams, Ronald Reagan and "Stonewall" Jackson. Even George Burns was missing something without Gracie by his side. I've seen lesser known men go through the loss of their spouse and the agony is causes. I've seen men with wives fighting horrible ailments and what it does to them. We act tough but, deep down, we know the truth. When you find the right one, it's right.

All of these men went through their own struggles, fought their own demons, had their own faults and shortcomings but they they had their best friend for a pat on the back, a hand to hold or a letter from home at the right moment. They found themselves involved in violent battles, travelling in far distant lands, exiled due to unfortunate political arrangements. When they were old, blind and sick, having their minds and bodies ravaged by cruel and torturous illnesses, their lifelong companions were there, by their side "until death do us part". And if their wife preceded them in death, nothing on this planet was ever completely right again.

That's why you marry your best friend.

So back to the youngster. I started to speak to him, to try to talk some sense in him but I remembered what I was taught about singing lessons for pigs and just decided to let it go. The poor guy will learn the lesson like I did. He'll be ok.

As for me, if I'm facing down the British Redcoats, marauding Yankees, a tough audience or a towering inferno, I'm glad to know that I have my version of Julia, Abigail, Nancy, Mary Anna or yes, even Gracie and if the day comes that we're too old or feeble for the type of relationship the youngster is looking for, that we'll still laugh together, cry together and love each other as ever and that we'll still have each other.

And that's what's important.