Experience

Learning to Love

Couple walking on grass

After I watched the movie “Out of Africa,” the storyline of which I have written about in a previous article, “The Bridges of Madison County” was recommended to me by my streaming service, because it also stars Meryl Streep, the talented leading actress in “Out of Africa.” That’s the best thing about technology: it not only knows us well enough to make a good recommendation, but also provides the necessary resources right at our fingertips. I watched “The Bridges of Madison County” at once and was touched by the romance developed between Francesca Johnson, a middle-aged housewife, and Robert Kincaid, a traveling photographer, during the four days when Francesca’s husband and children were away at the Illinois State Fair.

Although I enjoyed watching the movie, it seemed to be just one of those well-told romantic dramas after all. However, something from it kept lingering on. The movie starts with Francesca’s two adult children, Carolyn and Michael, arriving at her farmhouse to settle the estate after she passed away. By her arrangement, they find their way to the three diaries where she has kept an account of her encounter with Robert. The love affair, being the main part of the movie, is uncovered while her children are reading her story together. “How sad it seems to me, to leave this earth without those you love the most ever really knowing who you were,” in the letter she has written to her children, Francesca explaining why she wanted to reveal the experience she had had from more than two decades ago. While I totally understood the benefit of reliving an experience by journaling about it, as Francesca did with the three diaries, I just couldn’t wrap my head around why it is so important to unveil the part of us that we usually keep to ourselves. Also, it’s true that the passion between the virile photographer and the quiet housewife has a very strong appeal, but how does the whole thing become so virtuous and even life-changing? With these two questions in the back of my mind, I watched the movie once again.

I began to connect the scenes and grasp the significance of the love affair the second time I watched the movie. Being an WWII Italian war bride, Francesca has built a life on her husband’s family farm thousands of miles away from her own hometown, a life fully devoted to her husband and their two teenage children. Despite feeling discontented deep in her heart, she believes this is what life is supposed to be for a housewife, and it seems to her that there is nothing she could complain about. This all changes after she encounters Robert. With more than four decades of life experience behind them and the maturity that comes with middle age, Francesca and Robert fall in love instantly and find a soul mate in each other. Not only do they become inseparable and fully embrace the other person, as whoever is struck by Cupid’s arrow does, but they also help each other to discover their true selves and find renewed meaning in their lives. In the end, knowing that “We are the choices that we have made,” they make a conscious decision to part forever, with struggle, but peacefully. Looking back, Francesca maintains that it’s the memories of those four days that have sustained her on the farm all those years. And as for Robert, owing to Francesca’s encouragement, he finds his true calling as an artist. “We are bound together as tightly as two people can be,” they both proclaim with their actions.

As I thought about their story, warning bells began to sound in my head. Though the movie is set in 1965, our perception of life hasn’t changed a whole lot half a century later. I share the same discontent that Francesca had about being overburdened with the small details of everyday life. I love my family so much that I’m more than happy to contribute whatever I have. Nevertheless, every once in a while, I find myself craving for a brief moment of peace—maybe fifteen minutes free of concerns about my job, the housework, or my children’s needs—the whole day beginning from when I wake up in the morning, all the way until the late evening when everyone else in the household is asleep. It shouldn’t require a Robert to descend on me and help me see what my heart is crying for though. Francesca is here warning me with her own experience: if I keep ignoring my own needs, “you don’t even remember what it was that moved you, because nobody has asked you in so long, not even yourself.” Then what should I do to spare a little love for myself? It reminds me of a piece of advice a friend once gave to me—“You should cook more”—in hopes that by focusing on cooking I could clear my mind of the various responsibilities I have, and get re-connected with my own inner world. I didn’t dismiss the idea, as I would have had he suggested anything more than that, and since then I have found a little peace of mind through cooking. I know this is far less than what I should do for myself, but it serves as a starting point.

Now that I saw the significance of the love between Francesca and Robert, the kind of love that some people search for throughout their whole lives, and that others don’t even think exists, the other question came to mind: is it really so important to be known? “To be known is to be loved,” my friend said. “Is that so?” I was about to challenge him. But once I was able to get my head around this, the words “known” and “loved” instantly became interchangeable. Although I used to believe that in order to be loved, one has to pull out every resource of charm and not let out any weaknesses, now I have realized—as Francesca did—that we all want to be free of pretense and be loved for our whole selves. Moreover, this realization implies that “love” is an action verb, and if I’m to love someone, what I must do first is to know them. However, I’m so busy with pushing my own agenda with whoever I encounter, that I never get to fully know anyone, even my children, whom I often dismiss with impatience when they are trying to tell me about the ideas in their little heads. Also, since I have never taken the time to see myself either, it’s not a surprise at all that I don’t have a clear idea about what I’m going to do with my brief stay in this world. How sad it is to lead a life devoted to whatever I assume is expected out of me and become unhappy without ever knowing why! “Don’t worry. I have seen you,” my friend said.

Near the end of the movie, with her husband lying in bed during the last days of his life, Francesca feeds him medicine and water, and then lies next to him, caressing him lovingly. He gathers his energy and says, “I know you had your own dreams. I’m sorry I couldn’t give them to you. I love you so very much.” With tears in her eyes, she holds his hand firmly and kisses him gently. I was touched to the heart each time I watched this scene. At the end of the day, although her husband couldn’t give her what she wanted, as happens in life all too often, it’s the love they have for each other that has sustained them through their journey together, a journey so long that she even couldn’t count the years.

Inspired by their mother’s story, Carolyn finds the courage to rise up to her husband’s repeated infidelity and manages to confront him without being angry; Michael comes to understand what it really means to love, and doesn’t hesitate to tell his wife, “Do I make you happy, Betty? Cause I want to, more than anything.” They both have discovered new directions for their lives, with love as the guiding light.

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