Ma & PaMy Beloved Curmudgeon and I have spent the day together so far. We went for a long walk along a river in town and then went and ate a leisurely brunch. As we were driving home I asked him if he wanted to go anywhere else or just go on back home.

He chuckled and replied something to the effect of, ‘We’ve gone for a walk, we’ve eaten and we’ve talked all morning. That’s about all the bonding I can stand for one day. I need a nap after this much bonding.’

He went on to say we needed to get home and turn on the TV and get on the computer and quit talking so we can restore balance to our relationship.

He’s romantic that way.

So we get home and the T.V. is immediately turned on and there’s a story about Wesley Autrey’s heroic act of saving a young man in a subway station in New York.

We had not yet quite restored our balanced relationship and began discussing what makes someone run towards danger when others run away. Is it a gene that pops alive when danger is afoot? Is there a primal instinct for heroism that lays dormant until disaster strikes and then becomes active?

Actually, I was wondering those things aloud and my Beloved Curmudgeon was cleaning his gun and watching the news.

He did say that he wasn’t sure he’d have jumped down there to help the guy. He said something about them being lucky they both weren’t killed. I replied that the guy (Wesley Autrey) had said that he kept thinking how stupid it was. But that wasn’t the point. It’s not something someone thinks about, it’s something they do - instinctively. Some people do instinctively. That’s the point. No one would think about jumping under a train and think that was a smart thing to do. No one would throw themselves on a grenade and think that was a smart thing to do. But some people do those things when there isn’t time to think about it. They do it to save others. That’s what makes them heroes. It’s an instinctual reaction to danger.

I’ve seen my Beloved Curmudgeon do heroic things. I’ve not witnessed him doing something as dramatic as jumping beneath a train. But I’ve seen him react in situations enough to know that he has a hero’s instinct. I know of some things he did in Vietnam that he would deny were heroic, but most people would view his actions that way.

As I’m telling him this he continues cleaning his gun and watching the news. He smiled, still looking towards the television and said I was wrong. He said he never would have jumped under that subway train.

‘Because I wouldn’t have been there’, he said.

I looked at him, puzzled.

‘I’d been killed in the tsunami.‘ He answered my unasked question.

‘I’d been the guy with the camera running out to take pictures of the water receding in the tsunami. I’d be running as fast as I could to go out as far as I could. I’d been yelling at you over my shoulder to come on and look at this. This is something you’ll never see again.’

And I would have followed him. I’d have followed him all the while telling him how this reminds me of that movie in which the ocean recedes several miles and then suddenly comes slamming back into New York. He’d be snapping pictures and I’d be telling him all about that movie as I ran behind him to see the site we’d never see again.

I’d follow him because I know he’d never lead me into danger. I know he’d stand between me and danger.

Because he’s my hero.

And with that, we restored the proper balance in our relationship.

More on marital bliss….
[the photo above is my great grandfather with his second wife - I just like old photos]