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My father, age 92, is obsessed with his garden. It's the first thing he thinks about every morning and the last think he thinks about every night. He goes outside to tend it several times a day. He rigs a radio and light to keep the deer away. He uses a one million candle power spotlight to scan it several times a night to be sure the varmints aren't eating too much of it. He is obsessed.

My mother is obsessed with her floor. It's a custom designed tile that immitates a quilt pattern. She, the master quilter, designed it herself. Every time dad walks out into his garden and back into the house, his shoes track in grass and dirt. She can spot a fly speck at 50 yards, and every speck that lands on her floor irritates her until she dispatches it. She is obsessed.

All day, every day, he obsessively tends the garden and she obsessivley tends her floor.

All day, every day, each regards the other with a kind of love and respect and understanding that only those who have grown together over many years can sustain. It's all the more tender because both of them know the time they have together is limited. Among the books on my mother's reading table is her favorite poem by Albert Kennedy, Should You Go First.

When I stop to consider this couple who has been together for 71 years, I begin to understand the difference between love and obsession.

http://www.healingheart.net/poetry/go_first.html

Should You Go First

Should you go first and I remain
to walk the road alone,
I'll live in memories garden dear,
with happy days we've known.

In spring I'll wait for roses red,
when faded, the lilacs blue.
In early fall when brown leaves fall,
I'll catch a glimpse of you.

Should you go first and I remain,
for battle to be fought.
Each thing you've touched along the way
will be a hallowed spot.

I'll hear your voice, I'll see your smile,
though blindly I may grope,
The memory of your helping hand
will buoy me on with hope.

Should you go first and I remain,
one thing I'll have you do:
Walk slowly down that long long path,
for soon I'll follow you.

I want to know each step you take,
so I may take the same.
For someday down that lonely road
you'll hear me call your name.

~by Albert Kennedy "Rosey" Rowsell~