A septuagenarian’s love story
Stephen King, the best-selling author, writes his books for an audience of one: his wife Tabitha. “She’s the one I want to wow,” he says. King explains, that even though she’s not physically next to him when he’s doing his job, “during the actual...
Stephen King, the best-selling author, writes his books for an audience of one: his wife Tabitha.
“She’s the one I want to wow,” he says. King explains, that even though she’s not physically next to him when he’s doing his job, “during the actual writing the thought of making her laugh – or cry – is in the back of my mind”.
When I read this, it sort of struck me how true it is. Whenever we are working on something about which we are truly passionate, there are times when, subconsciously, we are doing it for one other person beside ourselves. We don’t really want to entertain the masses – deep down we just want to please someone who matters a lot to us.
The end result, in fact, will be way, way better if there is this ‘audience of one’ in our mind, because it keeps us focused, and eager to create something magical.
How lucky we’d be, then, if that ‘audience of one’ happened to be our life-partner: the very same one who can make us laugh, think and challenge our very own being.
The sad passing away of Mary Fenech Adami has made me think a lot about this. It seems to me, from what I’ve been reading over last week, that Mrs Fenech Adami was her husband’s ‘audience of one’. In his personal and private life, whatever he did, he probably always had her – and her reaction – in mind.
Which makes his loss even bigger than it is: for not only did he lose his lifetime companion but also the person who helped him gauge his very own being.
This is not about the cliché that behind every great man there’s an even greater woman. It’s very clear that Eddie Fenech Adami shared his life with someone who brought out the best in him.
Not known for being an emotionally expressive man, he told The Sunday Times: “She was always telling me to keep my cool, which I sometimes do lose. She looked after me in the best possible way.”
And in this sense, I think what we witnessed this week about the Fenech Adamis is a lesson in love and life. I never thought I’d say this of septuagenarians, but perhaps the truth is that in this age of romantic comedies, sex symbols and media bombardment, we are too desperately in search of a glamorous Kate-and-William love story. And we chose to ignore the simplest love stories staring at us in the face: that of couples who bring out the best in each other.
The Fenech Adamis never displayed any lovey-dovey outward affection (in manner of Kate and Lawrence or Joseph and Michelle). They just simply and matter-of-factly looked out for each other, both equal, strong and confident in different ways.
When asked what he will miss most about his wife, Eddie Fenech Adami said: “Practically everything about her, even simple things like knowing where things are in the house. I’ve already had experience of this today. She knew where everything was, so I’ll have to relearn what’s in the house and where, but I’ll manage.” His voice, it was reported, becomes momentarily unsteady when he says “I’ll manage”.
And it is here that I think lays the crux of their relationship: they were not dependent on each other in the dramatic sense, but they simply complemented each other.
The strained emotion with which Eddie Fenech Adami read the First Lesson during his wife’s funeral Mass had me in tears for all that was left unsaid: the grief in his soul.
Even the story of how they met is perhaps an eye-opener to any young couple: she simply followed the signs of life. In an interview with The Sunday Times in February 2009 she had recalled how she had not been interested in getting married.
“My friend kept dropping hints on what a good catch he was, but I was keen to help my mother at home. I guess the Holy Spirit illuminated me in the end and I have no regrets,” she had said.
If only, like Mrs Fenech Adami, we all took time to pray, or reflect, or simply stop and let our intuition kick in before we plunged into a relationship, I think we’d all be making better choices.
We tend to blame any lack of contentment on work, diet, financial strains and what not. But really, it all boils down to the people we opt to share our lives with.
Our sole quest in this life should be to find people whose energy makes us better people than we are – and in turn we do that to them.
Put simply, take time to thank your ‘audience of one’ today, for they are truly a blessing.