CJane is taking a “break” from blogging for a month or so. Look for her triumphant return on Valentine’s Day at her fantastic blog. In the meantime, she has condescended to let us read some of her vintage posts. Lucky us, No?

My Mom was always great at being excited for her enamored daughters. We would spend early mornings talking after our dates. She was so great at asking questions and listening to the answers. She loved the experience with us (and isn’t the experience so lovely?) I never understood her interest in me and my love interests, until this weekend when I watched my dearest friend D.W. fall in love. I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.

It was actually my brother and sister-in-law that set her up with Chancy. All six of us went out. The date was awkward to say the least. D.W. was charming, flirty and wearing a brilliant shade of aqua marine. Her date seemed less than apathetic to the whole situation. We ordered sushi, he ate two pieces and called it good. It was like he was too good to eat the same sushi as the rest of us lowlifes.

Back at our house we played lame games and tried to get Chancy to talk. Failed efforts. He wouldn’t even share a piece of cake with D.W. By the end of the night I could count on my hands how many times he even looked at her. We were all embarrassed, not to mention exhausted.

Chancy dropped D.W. off at her house around 11:00pm and grunted a good bye. At 2:30am that morning she awoke to a text message. It reads:

You are the most perfect woman I have ever gone out with. I was too intimidated to talk. I am sorry.
They spend the rest of the weekend together. She is calling me with updates and repeating the charming things he happens to say.

…then he said ‘You are so beautiful and sweet and smart… ‘

Suddenly I am falling in love with their falling in love. I want details. I want reactions. I want to be in on the strategies (call him… no text him…no call him).
Last night, lying in bed, I couldn’t help but be giddy about it all. Chup, tired from a long day of movie making, attempted to calm me down, or, in other words, bring me back to the Planet of the People Who Are Married.
“Don’t remind me.” I said, “I am in a good place. I am going to start wondering when our first kiss will be.”
“Their first kiss.” Chup gently, but not really gently, reminds me.
“Talk to me like Chancy talks to D.W.” I plead. “Tell me how beautiful and perfect I am.”
“We’ve been married too long for that.” Chup rolls over. Now I am wondering if he means that we have been married so long that we don’t need to verbalize the sentiments, or that we have been married so long that the sentiments aren’t validated. Either way, it’s not easy to move in between the worlds, one full of butterflies and the other full of buttered toast (that was a great line…but what does it mean?)

It didn’t take long before I heard this from the other side of the bed: “You are beautiful.” Big breath. “You are sweet.” Chup rolls over. “And you are smart, too.”

I’m remembering the first time we got piles of blankets and cuddled on my parent’s tramp. We awoke the next morning to my mother’s voice “Good morning you two!” After Chup sheepishly went home, my mother and I had plenty to talk about. So much to repeat. It would last the whole day, me spilling slices of last night’s conversations, while my mother gives more than sufficient responses.

…and then he said to me ‘I really dig you. You’re so clever…’

I know I am lucky to have a mom like I do, she is so much fun. I wonder though, was my mom so intent on listening because she had an agenda? After our talks did she roll over to my snoring dad and whisper, “Tell me that you dig me, honey.”