Thursday, October 17, 2013
He read her Walt Whitman.. and I read him Shakespeare.
photo credit: Holly Hawkins
book: poetry by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I can remember the first time I watched The Notebook. All I could seem to get out of poor Noah's speech impediment was that he grew out of it by reading Walt Whitman out loud to his father. I always thought that was so perfect. I used to romanticize about reading poetry and classic literature out loud to my future husband. The thing about Whitman, fantastic as he is, is he's not my favorite to read. Sorry, Dr. Romig and any other English/Lit professors I may have had at HPU that loved him.
When Trey and I first started dating, my thoughts never even circled around the idea of getting to read anything out loud to him. The truth is, if I was ever nervous enough, I could hardly read out loud to anyone (a fear I've grown out of thankfully). And even though I adored the way Noah read out loud to Allie, I never thought I would be able to do that with Trey. I surprised myself, though. In high school I often talked about the books I was reading or interested in. I always let Trey borrow them (even though I'm certain he never actually took my advice and read them) and was always anxious to share passages in each story that caught my attention. Truthfully, it wasn't until college (when I took all of those Lit classes) that I really began reading things out loud to Trey. Shakespeare, Blake, Shelley, Keats, Wordsworth, etc. You name it, I was probably reading it. I'm really thankful he never minded, either. That would've been awful. He always honored me by just listening. And at the end he would always tell me he loved to listen to my voice.
I will always remember those times before we were married that he would just sit and listen to me go on and on about poets, writers, painters, artists in general that I loved. Thank you, love. I will forever be grateful for your listening ears and your heart for me and my voice.