I KNOW EVERY ONE YOU'VE LOVED

I have been thinking more and more about the need for a partner. I am privy to the dating stories of three different generations. Erica, my 26 year old daughter; Rob, my 42 year old co-worker; and Laurie, my 82 year old mother-in-law. One thing for sure, the search for a mate is not for wimps. It takes great courage to expose oneself to the scrutiny of another. Because each searcher is doing in-depth analyses of physical attributes, family background, intelligence, interests, education and most important of all, baggage. It seems that after about the age of 22, baggage accumulates. In the twenties, it is the number of romantic relationships, intensity of those relationships and any vestige of feeling whether love, hate or regret. Erica has written an extraordinary song about this facet of relationships. She has a great line that goes: I know everyone one you've loved, I know every one, by the qualities of moonlight....you could know the sun....It's a song that evokes the messy perils of beginnings into the unknown. I think she should send it to Grey's Anatomy or House for their mood music.

In spite of my lack of dating experience, I have plenty of advice for the mate searchers. Thirty-five years in a relationship to one person has been far from settled. Sometimes I think it's been like being married to three different people. There have been estrangements, break-ups and courting that then pulled us into new relationships with each other. There were the ten years before children. Then another twenty years raising the children and now five years post children. Each "marriage" was influenced by our adult stage of development, preoccupation with careers, child-rearing and friendships. There is something amazing about sticking it out with one person that can make you a better and stronger person.

It's interesting that my sons maintain strict boundaries regarding their romantic relationships. What I mean is that they rarely and sparingly divulge information about the status of long term relationships or new relationships. I think that it may be a gender thing. Women love to talk about relationships in a way that is completely foreign to men. Men like to be in the relationship but don't seem to need to talk about it. Women get added value by talking about the relationship. My male co-worker seems to be an exception to this gender rule.

The other reason for this strict sense of privacy could be my own reckless forays into their love lives at tender ages. It was startling to me that my sons were interested in the opposite sex. Maybe a little threatening, perhaps a bit of jealousy on my part. So I asked intrusive questions trying to gain some sense of control which was futile. It took years to figure that one out. Once the shock that one's child was interested in another person romantically became more familiar, then I could enjoy their ability to love. All three children are loving, affectionate and respectful people.