Never Aging Love
I came across a cartoon: an elderly couple, sitting back to back on a bench, clearly having just had an argument. It’s raining, and the old man, despite facing away from the old lady, stretches his arm out to hold the umbrella over her head, letting himself get wet.
Beneath the image was a line of text: “A love that never ages is one where you argue your whole life, stay mad at each other for a lifetime, yet still protect each other from life’s storms for a lifetime.” My heart warmed as I thought of my parents’ marriage. Their marriage was arranged, with no real foundation of affection. When I was a child, they argued almost every day, and each time, the arguments were intense. There were several occasions when I thought they were going to divorce the next day. Back then, divorce was a huge deal.
At night, lying in bed alone, I would wonder if I would end up as an unwanted child, and tears would soak my pillow. The next morning, as I was contemplating what I would do if they divorced, my mom would be up early, having made breakfast, and would call out to my dad, “Breakfast is ready, I made your favorite sweet potato porridge.” My mom looked completely different from how she did during the argument. My dad, as if nothing had happened, would simply say, “Let’s have some pickles with it too!”
This happened so often that I got used to it. Sometimes, when they argued, I could even stay calm, watching the drama unfold like a spectator. But there was one time, I can’t remember why, when they argued so fiercely. My dad overturned the table, and my mom smashed a bowl on the floor. I had just started middle school and was in a rebellious phase, often clashing with my parents. I cried out loudly, “Go ahead, argue! I can’t stand living in this house anymore!” I wanted to scare them by threatening to run away.
Of course, I didn’t dare go far, just wandered around a small village three miles from home. My mom found me while I was picking wild morning glories by a field path. I told her, “Mom, you and Dad always argue. Maybe you should get a divorce!” My mom looked at me with an unbelievably shocked expression: “Divorce? What nonsense are you talking about, child?” I thought that after this, they might tone it down a bit, maybe argue less. But they didn’t. As I grew older, I gradually understood that arguing was their way of communicating, and they had never considered divorcing because of it.
Then came the year my dad was diagnosed with coronary heart disease. My mom suddenly deflated like a punctured balloon, no longer puffing up with anger and “fighting spirit” to argue with him. Even when my dad got upset and criticized her, saying, “You, you’ve never done anything with any sense, always muddling through life,” my mom would meekly listen and gently say, “Alright, don’t be mad. I admit I was wrong, okay?” From then on, my dad’s battles were without smoke. There really was a sense of mutual dependence between them.
My mom had a bad stomach, so my dad would always buy the best millet to make porridge for her. He even secretly rode his bike over forty miles to the mountains to buy better millet because he heard it was tastier. When my mom found out, she scolded him, “You old fool, are you trying to kill yourself? Don’t you know you’re a sick man?” My dad would just chuckle and say, “The doctor said mine’s the mildest case, no big deal, and I should get more exercise anyway.”
I finally understood that there was love between my mom and dad. People say that young couples grow old together, but when people grow old, it’s not just companionship—they still have the most beautiful kind of love. People age, but love does not. In old age, love deepens, becoming richer and more profound, like the ocean, filled with a lifetime of deep affection.
Thank you for reading! ” Sitestorys “
