A moment in time

A long, long time ago, in the 1980s, I dated a completely lovely man. We shared a lot -- we both love movies, we could both recite dialog from Monty Python's Flying Circus, we were both politically involved (and it wasn't easy for liberals like us to keep our spirits up during the Reagan years). He was tall and had really great hair.

But I didn't love him. He seemed a little too wimpy for me when I was into partying and coke and bad boys. So I threw him over for a much better looking, more charismatic and far more tortured bastard who broke my heart and was, without a doubt, the worst thing that ever happened to me.

I've remained in touch with the completely lovely man for all these years. I'm proud to report that I've been invited to the graduation ceremonies for each of his children and his wife and I are Facebook friends. This year's Christmas card included a photo of their first grandchild.

There are times that I wonder about the path not taken. What if I'd stayed with the completely lovely man and threw over the bastard? Would I now be a happy Wisconsin grandmother?

No. I might be a Wisconsin grandmother, but I wouldn't be a happy one. And he wouldn't be happy with me, either. Because I didn't love him.

Why am I writing about this today? Because I heard that Glenn Frey has died. He wrote and performed a song that was popular at the time, "The One You Love," and expressed exactly how I was feeling in those days. Hearing that song reminds me that I made neither the right nor the wrong choice because I had no choice at all. I didn't love him.

"Are you gonna stay with the one who loves you, or are you going back to the one you love?" The song captured that moment in time, and I'll always be grateful to Glenn Frey for exquisitely putting words to my feelings.