Loving Barbara

The ancient Greeks talked about eight types of love. None of those were the type of love I have for Barbara: head over heels.

Barbara was 19 when we met. Soft red hair, slender athletic figure, deep brown eyes, lovely lips, smiling or not, and relaxed body movement. Of course, I was attracted. A couple of dates revealed her easy-going, happy personality and her honest sincerity. Plus, she liked physical activity such as hiking, swimming, and tennis. Within a few weeks, I knew she was the one. I have never regretted it.

Admittedly, I was a small, dippy, somewhat wimpy kind of guy. Since fifth grade, women have not been attracted to me. This makes me needy, an unappealing trait. But let’s not talk about Barbara loving Phil, or about everyone who is questioning it. Let’s focus on Phil loving Barbara.

Within six months, we were pretty well committed. After another six months, we were married. I was 22, Barbara was 20.

Around that time, I first experienced sudden rushes of love. I might glance at Barbara as she was doing something ordinary, like brushing her hair. Suddenly, a feeling of love would flow through my entire body. My heart would be saying “Oh! I love this person so deeply. With all my heart and soul. More than anything in the world.” It would just hit me out of the blue. These love rushes have continued throughout our life together.

We had five children. The fourth, Phyllis, has Down syndrome. Back then, the outlook was very negative. The condition was labeled as “Mongoloid,” and books in the library held ugly photos of patients in institutions. But Barbara was unfazed. She would be nursing Phyllis and saying, “I don’t care what anyone says. Makes no difference at all. I love this baby.” In the next months, we attended groups for parents of mentally handicapped children. The children with Down syndrome were cute and charming. Phyllis, now 63, is perhaps the sweetest person in the world.

Barbara felt this way about every one of our kids. And I love her for that. For taking care of all of us. Making sure we ate and lived healthily. Being careful with money. Saturday Buck Night at the drive-in movie theater with homemade Kool-Aid and popcorn. Sunday afternoons in the park. Sunning ourselves on a blanket. Reading the newspaper. Kids chasing around, yelling, fun for all of us. Oh! How I loved those times.

In regard to sex, we were probably average. Let’s face it, average sex can be pretty darn good. Barbara liked the outdoors. In the sunshine, under a blue sky, or beneath the stars, with a full moon if you’re lucky. For me, anytime and anywhere was fine. We had our way at parks in Missouri and Texas and at Rocky Mountain National Park.

After getting a pop-up camper, our first big trip was to Florida. I remember Barbara stepping out of the ocean, her hair dripping, two kids on each side, all holding hands, strolling towards me as the kids jumped and galloped. That is a sure-fire trigger for a love rush.

Barbara’s relaxed attitude smoothed all of our lives. Especially her tolerance of my shortcomings. After attending a graduate school party and offering to drive for my good friend Giovanni, I crashed into the back of a peculiarly parked car. Arriving home at 1 a.m., I crawled into bed and spooned against Barbara’s warm body. “Honey, I have some bad news. I crashed Giovanni’s Ford. No one’s hurt. Insurance will cover the other car, but we will need to pay for Giovanni’s car,” I said.

Barbara was not upset. “Don’t worry. It’ll all work out,” she said. What a wonderful feeling, snuggling against her warmth and having her forgive my stupid mistake. I will always love her for that. This was when I had returned to school full-time, and money was tight, tight, tight. Another woman might have sat straight up in bed and started screaming at me. As it turned out, Giovanni’s older brother paid for the repair, and we repaid him monthly over the next year.

Barbara began accordion lessons at age 10 and stuck with it. She can easily sight-read anything in her large collection of sheet music and numerous books of classical and popular music. She loved practicing and performing, and she was in an accordion band in Dallas. She also played solo at small restaurants. Her highest-paying gig was playing French love songs at a Macy’s promotion of Lancôme beauty products. Also, she had unlimited rights to free cappuccinos for performing at a nearby Starbucks.

At home, several of us jammed behind her as she played. We would read the lyrics and sing along. We all loved music and loved her for providing it. Though one night she lost control: It was late, and everyone had sung to exhaustion. She kept going, playing and playing, while I escorted our visiting friends out to their car. Out in the street, laughing, we could still hear her.

When our youngest child entered kindergarten, Barbara began a full-time course in dental hygiene. Licensed in Missouri and Texas, she has earned good pay working shorter weeks and having more time for family. Dentists loved her excellent work, and patients loved her personal attention.

Her education continued at the University of Texas, near our home in Richardson. She received a Bachelor of Fine Arts. One teacher considered her creativity far beyond that of other students. And she has applied it at home. In the master bedroom, the wall above our headboard held a beautiful arrangement of curving pine branches, full of long green needles. Her creativity blossoms in all directions. I love it.

Now in our golden years — me at 90, her at 87 — I’m still head over heels in love. Her effort to write memoirs has been slowed by health issues. An emergency heart stent insertion has gone well. Much harder is the breast cancer that had spread to her lymph nodes. After a lumpectomy and radiation, she is bogged down with low energy and other side effects of the medicine that suppresses estrogen. No recurrence after the first year of treatment.

My sudden rushes of love for Barbara continue. The latest occurred while she calmly dozed off in the chaise lounge in front of Netflix. I like those feelings. I’m looking forward to more.

You will find us at public events like Estes Park band concerts and choir recitals, and taking breaks at Kind Coffee. Me glowing with pride at having Barbara by my side.

Barbara and Phil Zwart grew up in St. Louis, MO. For the past 20 years, they and their daughter Phyllis have lived happily in Estes Park.