To Caitlyn With Love

With actor Ryan O'Neal's latest scuffle with his son Redman and his girlfriend, I have been thinking again of his famous line from the movie Love Story. Who can forget the weepy film starring O'Neal and Ali MacGraw, whose character is dying from leukemia? The line, "love means never having to say you're sorry" is repeated twice, once by MacGraw in the middle of the film and once by O'Neal as the last line. From 1970 on, the line has received a lot of ridicule, parody, and spoof with perhaps the most famous from John Lennon who said, "Love means having to say you're sorry every fifteen minutes." Today I'd like to revisit that line and argue that perhaps it does have true meaning.

I say this because of a recent babysitting adventure with our granddaughter Caitlyn and her brother Charlie. Caitlyn is eight years old, and Charlie is three. Pop B and I arrived at the house promptly at five so that the children's parents could go out to a nice restaurant and later to a play downtown in order to celebrate Valentine's Day. All went very well until bedtime at nine o'clock. Up until that time, Caitlyn and I had spent three hours playing Native Americans living in the nineteenth century in a tee pee. She was Speaking Rain, a little girl who was blinded when her parents were killed in a fire. I was Speaking Rain's adoptive mother. We stayed in character even as we ate two heart-shaped pizzas for dinner; Caitlyn called them bear meat and deer meat respectively. After playing, the children managed to get baths and hair shampoos, and later Caitlyn and I studied four lessons in her science book for an upcoming test the next day.

The trouble began, however, when I told Catilyn I needed to go upstairs to put her brother to bed. She began "pitching a fit" as we say in the South accompanied by a hard shove to her little brother's chest. For the next hour, she cried, screamed, jumped on her bed, and ran around the downstairs area. As she was finally wearing out around ten, I told her that if she wanted to say she was sorry the next day she could call me. I also told her about my first experience at saying I was sorry (at least without prompting by my mother).

I was also eight years old at the time. Mother typically sent Judy and me to Tutwiler in the Mississippi Delta for spring break so that she could get a spring break herself. One lovely warm afternoon, I remember sassing my grandmother Mam for some unexplained reason. Later, I began to feel guilty for the first time in my life. I remember distinctly going outside and seeing Mam hanging up clothes on the line outside the house. I stood beside her for a long time, saying nothing, until finally I finally did it; I said, "I'm sorry" in a tiny little whisper. She forgave me instantly, of course. But the reality of the situation is that I knew I was greatly loved by my grandmother and that nothing I could ever do or say could change that love; she loved me unconditionally. Therefore, doesn't true love really mean "never having to say you're sorry"?

Another possibility perhaps for the true meaning of the line is that, if one passionately loves another, as the O'Neal and MacGraw characters did, does he or she ever regret that decision to love in spite of illness, impending death, or whatever threat might be lurking?

All of this musing has led me to wonder when the awakening of a soul takes place? Theologians are adamant that it is early and, therefore, it is essential to train children early to be aware of God's spirit speaking within them. I tend to agree, though it has been two days, and Caitlyn still hasn't called.