Category Archives: Love

On the 70th Anniversary of D-Day, a Reminder of What They Fought For

06 Friday Jun 2014

Posted by in Current Events, Love, Nostalgia

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AuBonMarcheAllied1The news is filled with reminders that 70 years ago today, the tide turned on the beaches of Normandy, France, when the United States led Allied Forces in an offensive that changed the course of World War II, leading to victory on the European front, or V-E Day, on May 8, 1945. My father served in that war, although he was stationed with the U.S. Army in the Persian Gulf. And while his brother served with the Army in the war’s European theater, I’m not sure if my Uncle Norman was part of the charge on D-Day. As I think about this historic anniversary, I’m reminded of how difficult it must have been for my grandparents to have two of their three sons in harm’s way.

I’m also reminded of something else—something that lies at the heart of civilization: Love. I’ve been reading the letters that my father wrote home during the war, and recently found a trove of other memorabilia. Just this afternoon—on the anniversary of D-Day—I opened a folded brochure that serves as the illustration to this post—a “shopping guide for allied soldiers in the French department stores.” The famed Au Bon Marché (known today as Le Bon Marché) made this guide to the metro available “with heartiest greetings,” as the publication proudly declares. The French, the ne plus ultra of all things civilized and cultured, knew that even far from home, a soldier would have someone to shop for.

AuBonMarcheAllied2The guide includes some helpful translations, as you can see in the first image. I think this one’s my favorite:

What kind of ladie’s [sic] lingerie have you?
Quel genre de lingerie pour dame avez-vou?
Kel janr de’r linsh’ree poor dahm away voo?

In all seriousness, the French knew that they and their allies were fighting not only for freedom from oppression, tyranny, and injustice—they were fighting for the preservation of the very thing that makes the world go ’round.

Vive l’amour!

 

Reflections (with Feathers) on my Valentine’s 60th Birthday

12 Wednesday Feb 2014

Posted by in Love, Midpoints, Relationships and Family Life, Remarriage, Second Weddings, The Life Poetic, Transitions

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©iStock.com/studioimagen

©iStock.com/studioimagen

When my husband and I were falling in love and committing ourselves to coupledom, I said to him, in all seriousness, “I want decades with you.” That was more than four years ago, when he was 55, and I was 53. It felt like a tall order; his mother died at 62, my father at 47. Then there was the fact that I’d had “a mild case of cancer,” undergoing surgery and radioactive iodine treatment for thyroid cancer. At the time of our courtship, however, I was in fine health, and so was John. (As of this writing we still are, knock wood.) This being the case, I am as hopeful for our future now as I was when we were betrothed. (Great word, isn’t it?) I’m reminded of Emily Dickinson’s great poetic line: “Hope is the thing with feathers.” My husband and I have been flying together for half a decade. I want to soar many more miles with him.

John turns 60 on Thursday, February 13. There’s something about crossing the threshold into a new decade that gives one pause; mid-lifers especially, I think, tend toward reflection here, especially if they’re in a second relationship. We have fewer mile markers in front of us, and we know that one of them will be fateful. All John or I can do is live each day with love—as if every day is Valentine’s Day, as, indeed, it will be the morning after his birthday.

Besides hosting Valentine’s Day, the 14th is a significant date for us because we met on the 14th of June. For that reason, when we decided to marry, we chose August 14 as our wedding day. The middle of February is, you might say, a peak time on our calendar, what with his birthday, V-Day, and, this year, our 56-month anniversary. But this doesn’t necessarily mean it’s black-tie-and-gown party time. Last year, for example, movers in Richmond were loading a truck with our belongings. This year, as I write this, I’m still in a leg cast.

As Connie Schultz says, life happens. John and I might not be able to go out and paint the town Cupid red, but by spreading out the significance of our love over 365 days—that is, by not taking one another for granted—each day feels more valuable, more treasured. Being mindful of our love each day helps us stack the deck. We might have only half a decade on our scorecard, but if we care for each other, are kind to each other, and express our love in ways minuscule as well as magnificent—every single day—it will seem as though we really are getting more decades than the calendar suggests. Some might call this magical thinking. I call it hoping, with feathers.

Happy 60th birthday, my love. And Happy Valentine’s Day, too. I wish you (and me, for you) good health. Decades of it.

“Hope” is the thing with feathers – (314)

By Emily Dickinson

“Hope” is the thing with feathers –
That perches in the soul –
And sings the tune without the words –
And never stops – at all –

And sweetest – in the Gale – is heard –
And sore must be the storm –
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm –

I’ve heard it in the chillest land –
And on the strangest Sea –
Yet – never – in Extremity,
It asked a crumb – of me.

12 Things to Tell My Son Before His Wedding Day

26 Thursday Sep 2013

Posted by in Love, Relationships and Family Life, Transitions

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Roger Mastroianni photo

Roger Mastroianni photo

Having an only child is the maternal equivalent of putting all your eggs in one basket, so to speak. Additional children give you the chance for a do-over or two; with only one, that’s exactly how many chances you get to get the whole parenting thing right. I look back on the trail I embarked upon 32 years ago, and I see it littered with the weeds and stones of my mistakes and missteps. Occasionally I’ll spot a bit of something shiny. I hope it’s a marker for a good decision made, or the right thing said at the right time. Yet, in spite of my occasional impatience and bursts of short-temper, the young man standing at the edge of this path—my son—is the brightest thing shining there. He’s a terrific person with a great good heart, and he’s at a crossroads. He’s getting married soon to a beautiful young woman with a great good heart of her own. I have just one chance to get this whole mother-of-the-groom thing right. Over the years, through trial-and-error, I’ve learned a thing or 11 about what it takes to make a relationship work. I’d like to share these bits of wisdom with him now—12 things he should know before his wedding day.

  1. Never take her—or anything—for granted. Be grateful every day for the life you have and the love you’ve found.
  2. Do something nice for her every day, and thank her for something at least once a day.
  3. Remember that marriage is not a competition except for this one thing: try to out-love one another.
  4. Embrace her neuroses. That is, should she have any.
  5. Respect her. Respect her. Respect her.
  6. Communicate with one another clearly, calmly, and constantly.
  7. Listen to what she has to say, and put yourself in her shoes while she’s saying it.
  8. Make time for each other.
  9. Be in the moment when you’re together. Concentrate on one another, not on your work or your smart phone.
  10. Hold hands every chance you get.
  11. Make love with one another as often as you can.
  12. Put the toilet seat down and pick up your clothes from the floor.

(Older) Women in Love

13 Friday Sep 2013

Posted by in Love, Midpoints, Remarriage, Transitions, What's the Buzz?

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What do we talk about when we talk about love? I recently had the honor to participate, via Google Hangout, in a lively panel discussion on the WHOA! Network. I loved talking with these accomplished, thoughtful, and insanely fun women about what it really means to find love at 50-plus. We talked about the lessons of our past relationships. We talked about the exhilaration of discovering that one amazing person who is perfect for us—and our surprise in realizing that person happens not to possess some of the qualities and life experiences we’ve toted around on our preconceived checklist of “must-haves.” We talked about the courage it takes to make a commitment, to upend our lives in order to start a new one with THE ONE.

Lynn Forbes, a co-founder of WHOA!, moderated our chat, which features model and entrepreneur Cindy Joseph and writer Tammy Bleck. You can view the short clip above to eavesdrop on what we had to say, but you can also watch the full conversation right here:

Here Because He Wasn’t There: 12 Years After 9/11

11 Wednesday Sep 2013

Posted by in Love, Remarriage, Transitions

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JOHN AND SANDY_TheMidlifeSecondWife

My husband John with our dog Sandy

When you marry for the second time—especially later in life—anniversaries become particularly significant: we know that time is fleeting, each milestone is precious, and because life can turn on a dime, so is each day. Each year together is a gift. In August John and I marked our third wedding anniversary. For the last three years (four if you count our courtship), I’m reminded, in the following month, just how fragile the gift of our togetherness is, and the gift of our love. John was supposed to be on the 98th floor of the North Tower of the World Trade Center on the morning of September 11, 2001. And because of a fateful decision, he is here, with me, today.

If you’ve followed this blog from the beginning, please forgive my retelling this story. It’s important to me, each September 11, to republish my original post, which first appeared on the tenth anniversary of that horrific, world-changing day.

Because anniversaries are significant. Because time is fleeting. Because each milestone is precious. Because life can turn on a dime, or on an impulsive decision.

Dedicated to the victims and heroes who died on 9/11, and to those whose lives were forever changed.

Click here to read the original post.

‘Thank You for Shopping at the Man Store’

03 Monday Dec 2012

Posted by in Love, Midpoints, Relationships and Family Life, Remarriage, Transitions

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JOHN AND SANDY_TheMidlifeSecondWife

This is not “Steve.” To find out who this is, please read the entire post.

Let’s call him Steve. After all, that’s what he called himself on Match.com. And who’s to say if that was his real name?

Steve and I have never met, but he’s the reason I decided to step off the Match.com bus, and for that I owe him my gratitude. Why? Because in the world of online-dating algorithms, where any click, keyword, or action is fraught with significance, stumbling across his profile, which he had the cheek to title “Thank You For Shopping at the Man Store,” ricocheted me onto a fateful course.

It was time for me to renew my six-month subscription on Match.com. Or was it? Steve’s headline was a wake-up call of sorts: If what I was doing was “shopping at the man store,” well, in the words of the immortal Bard: “Yuck.”

Four years of on-again, off-again attempts to meet someone in cyber-land had taken their toll. This was clearly a stupid way to meet people, and I was done. Finished.

That weekend I sent Match my notification that I’d not be renewing, and went about my business.

I had taken a few vacation days from work, and the next day, a Monday, was beautiful and bright outside. I was about to go out for a walk. But the siren call of the inbox lured me from my intended rounds.

I still had a couple of days before my Match profile vanished from public view. Now, with the pressure off, it might be fun to log onto my email and see what new horrors awaited me.

Oh. This one sounds promising. “ArtsandSportsLvr” finds me, “1literary_lady,” interesting. At least that’s what the subject header of the Match email indicates: “You Sparked Someone’s Interest!”

Well what do you know? With just a couple of days left to go on Match, I get a nibble.

I click the link that takes me to the Match website, and click again to see what Match has to say about him.

“He’s a 55-year-old man living in Cleveland, OH.”

Okay, age is fine. Geography, manageable.

“You both fancy felines. Like you, he’s not a smoker. He has a graduate degree.”

An intelligent cat-lover who doesn’t have nicotine stains on his teeth. This just keeps getting better and better.

I click on the link to his profile.

Ah. He’s included a picture. That’s always a good sign. There’s nothing creepier than seeing a faded blue head in silhouette accompanied by a wink (or, sometimes, a leer).

Wait. This is a nice picture. Look at those bright, clear blue eyes! And gosh darn it all, he’s got a dog, too! That is, if he didn’t rent the pup for the picture. (Had I grown cynical? Yes, just a little, around the edges.)

I was aware of the cyber-clock ticking. In a couple of days, I’d be lost to ArtsandSportsLvr forever. I had a decision to make. I could let boy-and-his-dog into my life, or let them trot off into the sunset. And live out the rest of my days with my cats.

I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and send a reply:

SUBJECT: The artful, sporting life…
From:        customercare@match.com
Date:        Mon, June 8, 2009 10:06 am

Hello, and thank you for your interest.
I must say that from what I read in your profile, we seem to have much in common. You also have a great smile; it suggests a good, kind soul.

My subscription to Match ends this week, and I’m not renewing it.  If you would like to get to know me off-line, as it were, and wish to send me a note, here’s my e-mail address in the real world:

[excised]

Have a wonderful day!

—Marci

I go out for my walk, and when I return, there’s a message waiting for me:

Marci, thanks for sharing your e-mail address.  I would like to continue chatting until you get comfortable enough to plan a get-to-know-you meeting.  I was introduced to the Oberlin concerts at the gazebo last year and enjoyed two of them.  The theater there is a wonderful bargain as well.  I have been told that the art museum is worth the trip and is on my list of to-do’s this summer.

Now you have my e-mail address and feel free to use it.

John

“Go out and make a difference in the world and it will make a world of difference in you.” – JR

I’m intrigued. A guy who includes a quote from himself in his email signature. That could seem pretentious, but this doesn’t strike me that way. I like the philosophy here. Could this be a man who’s not full of himself? An actual nice guy?

After a few more emails, we agree to speak on the phone.

I like his voice.

We set up a meeting at the museum in the town where I live.

That date, our first, lasts seven hours.

Reader, I married him.

I know I had become cynical about online dating toward the end of my tenure, but with success and the passage of time, it’s clear to me that I really had to give the algorithms time to do their work. John and I would never have met without the nudge from our cyber Dolly Gallagher Levi.

I wrote about this experience, and the online dating phenomenon, for the Richmond Times-Dispatch in an article published September 4, 2011. My research included interviews with Amy Canaday of Match.com’s public relations office, and two experts— Mark Brooks, an online dating consultant, and Dr. Robert Epstein, a contributor to Scientific American Mind.

When I interviewed Canaday by email in 2011, she told me that in the previous five years, the fastest-growing demographic for Match.com was the 50-and-older age group.

Unattached boomers? Are you listening?

Readers, this post is part of a GenFab Blog Hop. To begin reading all of the posts on the subject of “How I Met My Significant Other,” please click here.

The ‘L’ Word

20 Saturday Oct 2012

Posted by in Love, Midpoints, Relationships and Family Life, Remarriage, Transitions

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morgueFile image/KConnors photograph

NOTE: KatieCouric.com published an edited version of this post as “Learning to Love Again” on Monday, Oct. 22, 2012.

As many magazine articles, advice columnists, and situation comedies will tell you, it’s tricky being the first person in a relationship to say, “I love you.” Remember George Costanza? George was left holding what Jerry Seinfeld called a “pretty big matzo ball” because he failed to receive the much coveted “I love you return.” But what’s funny on television is actually quite terrifying in real life. It takes a huge leap of faith and nerves of titanium to say the “L” word first.

Take that terror to the tenth power if you’re divorced.

I know whereof I speak. After 26 years of marriage, my first husband and I divorced. Fast-forward six years, and I meet him. You know, The One. But let’s digress a moment, because playing with these numbers has given me an epiphany.

When I met The One, I was one year shy of my seven-year cellular renewal cycle—you know, that “Aha! Moment” your body supposedly has when all of its cells slough away, leaving you with an almost brand-new self. In truth, as Nicholas Wade wrote in a New York Times science article seven years ago, some cells—“the neurons of the cerebral cortex, the inner lens cells of the eye and perhaps the muscle cells of the heart”— remain unchanged. Now that’s what I call something of great constancy. The cellular structures of the brain, the eye, and the heart—three essential components in registering romantic love, if you ask me—remain constant. The cells in the rest of our bodies hit the refresh key, as it were.

Interesting. But the brain, eye, and heart theory didn’t pass the constancy test in my first marriage, I’m sad to say.

Then again, you never know. I like the idea of considering, given multiples of seven, that perhaps anything is possible. Believe me, I have mapped this out. I was married at 21 and divorced at 47. (Okay, so I’m a year or two off.) But everything did seem possible when I met The One, skipping along as I was toward my next seven-year cycle of renewal. The One and I had a lot in common: we made each other laugh, we sang lyrics from the Great American Songbook while cleaning up the kitchen after cooking together, and the attraction we felt toward one another left us in awe.

And then, two-and-a-half months into the relationship, it happened.

I did it. I’m the one who said it. After a hesitant sigh, he replied, as gently as he could, “I’m sorry. I’m just not there yet.”

Talk about your matzo balls. I could have opened a deli.

“Forget it,” I countered hastily. “I shouldn’t have said it. I understand what you’re saying/feeling/thinking.” (I was trying to fill in as many blanks as I could to cover myself.) “It’s all right.”

I wanted to believe that his reaction stemmed from emotional baggage. Our arms were filled with it. His divorce, however, was more recent than mine. I had reached the point where my baggage, as Dr. Terri Orbuch (The Love Doctor) says, could fit in the overhead compartment. Him? Not so much. He needed a skycap.

Or maybe it was something else. Maybe (Heaven forefend!) it was a case of “he’s just not that into you.”

And so he left, leaving me to wonder if I’d blown it. How could I have misread the signals? Everything pointed to love. All of the signs were there: the caring, the fondness, the intimacy, the long, meaningful conversations, the seeming trust, the genuine enjoyment in just being together. If that’s not love, what is?

I decided I wasn’t going to let this get to me. I was happy, he was happy. (He was, wasn’t he?) We had a date for the following evening; in fact, we had several events lined up into the next month. I wasn’t about to bring it up again.

Until one day I did.

“I blank you.”

“What?”

“I said ‘I blank you.’”

“What does that mean?”

“It can mean whatever you’d like it to mean. Fill in the blank. For my part, I know what it means but I’m not telling you. More cake?”

He laughed, and that was that. We were back on an even keel. “I blank you” became a running joke between us. He even started saying it to me.

The weeks flew by. Before I knew it, October was here, the month containing the second most dreaded Hallmark holiday (after Valentine’s Day) for single people: Sweetest Day.

I remember the scene as though it were yesterday. I had cooked dinner, something from my collection of Barefoot Contessa cookbooks. I bought him a maroon hooded Oberlin sweatshirt, not because he went to Oberlin, but because I did. I still lived in that quaint college town, and he loved its cultural vibe as much as I did. I wrapped the gift and bought a card. I presented both to him with a flourish. Here’s the card:

© Marian Heath. Used with permission and slightly altered, as it was the day I gave it to The One. Where would we be without Post-It Notes?

After he finished laughing, he became quiet. He looked at me across the table and said, “Marci, I’m not saying this because it’s Sweetest Day. I don’t “blank” you anymore. That’s silly. I love you.”

There it was. Four months after meeting him on Match.com, he told me he loved me. The matzo ball dissolved.

Four years after that first sweetest day together, we’re still celebrating. We’ve been married for two years. At the risk of tempting fate, by our seventh wedding anniversary, I fully expect the constancy theory to hold—my heart, my head, and my eyes will see what I’m seeing right now: He’s The One.

© Marian Heath. Used with permission.

RELATED:

‘When they Fall, they Fly’

“Outliers of Outloving”

“Secrets Of A Successful Marriage: Marlo Thomas And Phil Donahue”

“Secrets to a Happy Relationship”

 

The Midlife Second Wife Joins “Katie” as a Featured Blogger on Monday, Oct. 22

18 Thursday Oct 2012

Posted by in Love, Relationships and Family Life, Special Events, What's the Buzz?

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The elegant set of ‘Katie.’ The show is taped at ABC Studios in New York and syndicated across the United States.

(MONDAY, OCT. 22, 2012)—UPDATE: I learned late last night that the segment featuring Dr. Terri Orbuch has been postponed and will be rescheduled. When the producers announce a new air date I will let you know. Hope you can tune in to watch Academy Award-winning actress Susan Sarandon speak with Katie Couric and see both women engage in a bit of competitive sport!

The call came on a Monday in August, about a week after I had returned home to Richmond following the BlogHer conference in New York City. On the line was Brittany Jones-Cooper, a producer of Katie, Katie Couric’s new syndicated daytime talk show.

She and Couric had been at the BlogHer conference—Couric was featured in one of several keynote interviews, engaging in a lively discussion with BlogHer cofounder Lisa Stone, and issuing a clarion call for bloggers to participate in her new show. The television legend certainly came to the right place!

And, it would seem, so did I.

Back to that phone call. Couric’s producer had seen my blog, liked what I wrote, and asked if I could be in ABC Studios in New York on Thursday for a taping. Couric has employed several ingenious methods of integrating social media into her program; one way is to have two bloggers in the audience for each show. The theme of this particular program would be divorce.

Now as we all know, I happen to know a little bit about that subject.

And so it was that three days later, my husband John, who grew up about 20 minutes outside of the city, drove me into Manhattan. A bonus of the trip? We’d take some time to explore all of the landmarks of his youth—something I’d wanted to do ever since meeting him.

What a whirlwind! Just arrived backstage at the ABC Studios, still wearing my traveling clothes. TMSW got dressed and made up in record time!

I’m in the cobalt blue jacket, wearing a necklace and an Apple MacBook Pro. At my right is blogger Deesha Philyaw, of ‘Co-Parenting 101.’

You’re reading about all of this now because the program I was invited to attend airs on Monday, Oct. 22, at 3 p.m. on NBC12 in the Richmond market. You’ll want to visit the Katie website to check your local listings; in some markets the program airs at 2 p.m.

Katie Couric chats with the audience before the taping. Check out her gorgeous shoes!

The featured guest? One of my favorite actresses—the smart, sultry, simply ageless Susan Sarandon—as admired for her social activism as she is for her award-winning performances. Single after a long-term partnership with actor Tim Robbins, she turned 66 earlier this month; she shares her thoughts about commitment, relationships, and what it’s like to be an older—albeit steadily working—actress in Hollwood. Also on the show is Dr. Terri Orbuch, aka ‘the love doctor,’ offering useful marital advice—from a surprising source.

After the taping, Sarandon and her two dogs, Rigby and Penny, posed for pictures with Katie. Remind me to tell you a cute story about Rigby!

The colorfully-garbed audience of ‘Katie’

I’ll be tweeting LIVE during the broadcast beginning at 3 p.m. Eastern Time. If you’re not already following me on Twitter, please hop over to the next window and click “follow.”

The producer also asked me to write an essay for the program’s website about finding love after divorce. (I happen to know a little something about that, too.) KatieCouric.com published “Learning to Love Again” on Oct. 22, 2012. The post appears as “The ‘L’ Word” on this blog.

I hope you’ll have a chance to tune in or follow my LIVE tweets during the broadcast. Enjoy! And as always, thanks for reading!

The Light Shines On: Our Second Wedding Anniversary

12 Sunday Aug 2012

Posted by in Love, Midpoints, Relationships and Family Life, Remarriage, Second Weddings, Special Events

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Marci, aka The Midlife Second Wife, with John on their wedding day. Photo credit: Roger Mastroianni

Where does the time go? It seems only yesterday when I received an “interest” notification via Match.com from “arts&sportslvr,” and here we are, about to celebrate our second wedding anniversary. (Those keeping careful notes will want to know, for the record, that our nuptials took place on August 14, 2010.)

So much has happened in two short, swift years. We moved to another part of the country and set down roots by buying a home. (I also started this blog, which celebrates its first anniversary later this month.) We continue to grow together and learn together and hold each other close when buffeted by life’s vicissitudes. We embrace one another’s neuroses. (Thank you, Wendy Swallow.) We celebrate every triumph, no matter how small. We listen to each other. We support one another. We are a duo, a couple, a unit, a team. We are each other’s best friend.

Do you see the flames in the separate candles we are holding? We are about to create one unified, eternal flame. It still burns strong and bright, despite a few clouds, despite some wind and rain. When we decided to get married, we knew there would be challenges to face—how could there not be? We were each of us starting over, from scratch, midway through our lives. The light at the end of the tunnel seemed so dim, so seemingly light-years away, that we simply had to trust that it was there. It is there. It flickers, sometimes brightly, sometimes with just a pale fire. It is, in the words of our wedding poem (Wendell Berry’s “The Country of Marriage”):

a pattern
made in the light for the light to return to.
The forest is mostly dark, its ways
to be made anew day after day, the dark
richer than the light and more blessed,
provided we stay brave
enough to keep on going in.

We are nothing if not brave. What else can we be? We are human and we live in this world and we have faith. And we are together, thank God.

On what will be our second wedding anniversary—and on every day of our lives together—I say to “arts&sportslvr:” Thank you for joining your candle to mine, and mine to yours.

I love you.

My Blood Donor Valentine

14 Tuesday Feb 2012

Posted by in Love, Relationships and Family Life, The Healthy Life

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John, hooked up to the apheresis machine at Virginia Blood Services.

Yesterday, to honor John on his birthday, I shared with you the key to his character: his favorite book is Shel Silverstein’s The Giving Tree. Today’s post, I hope, conveys just how much I love and admire my Valentine, and I think this picture tells more of the story.

Every two weeks, John spends a couple of hours hooked up to an apheresis machine at Virginia Blood Services. The device is a type of centrifuge which extracts the blood platelets and some of the plasma from John’s whole blood, returning the red cells and most of the plasma back to him but retaining the life-giving platelets. As I understand it, platelets are an essential part of cancer and organ transplant treatments. John has been donating either whole blood or platelets for most of his adult life; he first gave blood when he lived in Pittsburgh in the late 1980s, after learning about an area child, suffering from leukemia, who needed platelets for treatment.

I’m not afraid of needles or anything, but I’ve never given blood before. My blood pressure has always trended on the low side; I am, unfortunately, one of those people with a lower than usual supply of energy. I suppose I just assumed that giving blood would have an adverse effect on me, depleting my precious stores of vitality.

But on Sunday I accompanied John to Virginia Blood Services and, to my pleasant surprise, I passed the initial screening. I then got myself tethered to a tube and proceeded to have one pint of whole blood siphoned from myself, feeling rather like a pump at a gas station. The whole procedure took about eight minutes. And although John’s method of donating—apheresis—takes about two hours, the process is typically kinder to his system than giving whole blood, because the machine returns the vital red cells to him. Giving whole blood, in which one relinquishes red cells, platelets, plasma and all, can tend to leave a person feeling weaker than giving via apheresis. I’m glad to say, however, that after drinking a can of sugared soda at the advice of the technician (something I never do), I only felt tired, not light-headed or ill in any way.

Here are some facts, courtesy of the Virginia Blood Services website, that are worth learning if you’ve ever considered donating blood but have yet to take the plunge:

  • More than 4.5 million patients need blood transfusions each year in the U.S. and Canada;
  • 43,000 pints of donated blood are used each day in the U.S. and Canada;
  • Someone needs blood every two seconds. Females receive 53 percent of blood transfusions; males receive 47 percent;
  • In the United States, less than 10 percent of the 38 percent eligible to donate blood do so annually;
  • About one in seven people entering a hospital need blood;
  • One pint of blood can save up to three lives.

It’s astonishing to think that the pint of blood I donated on Sunday could save three lives. I’m ashamed that I’ve never been so selfless before this. John’s generous nature has influenced me. And that’s one of the many gifts he’s given me that money can’t buy.

Happy Valentine’s Day, everyone!