The Look

Patty Swyden Sullivan
(Chicken Soup for the Bride's Soul February 2004)

We grew up viewing the documentation of our parents' love. Every year on their anniversary a white twin bed sheet pinned to brocade drapes served as our improvised movie screen. Live. On film.

I loved seeing Dad's thick wavy black hair and strong athletic build. Mom was more beautiful than Cinderella or Snow White, possessing the aura of a princess. They filled the screen with glamour, excitement and fairy-tale magic.

And then there was that look. The expression on Dad's face as he beheld his bride taught me to search a man's eyes for that same glowing reflection of devotion, awe and pride.

The images on our homemade screen reinforced in our minds the daily affection they demonstrated for us. The secret winks Dad sent Mom's way were intended to fly over our heads, but of course we always caught them, and they brought a sense of security. I identified his conspiratorial wink as a sign of their complete solidarity. They were an inseparable twosome moving through life as one.

So I began a quest for the real-life personification of the images I viewed on a plain bed sheet. My dream man was crystal clear in my mind. I wanted to find a husband to love me the way my dad loved my mom. I would recognize him by the look in his eye.

Of course, it is one thing to know what you are looking for; it is quite another to find it. But miracles do happen.

Like my parents, we met at a party. Bob spotted me, as the romantic cliché goes, across a crowded room and asked his friend to introduce us. Frank dutifully steered me over. As soon as I saw him, my gaze locked with his, I was unaware of how gorgeous he was; I was far too distracted by his eyes boring into mine.

This look belonged to me.

If it was the look in his eyes that rocked me, it was learning about him and getting to know the depth of his character that steadied my feet. He was solid, loyal, witty, compassionate and charming. He was my dream come true.

I wanted desperately to introduce Bob to my parents—my role models for love. Unfortunately, by this time Dad was deeply immersed in his battle with Alzheimer's and was, for the most part, nonverbal. Locked away in his private world, he seldom even made eye contact...