When my love died, I gave away many of my books. I could not bear to see them anymore. I understand now how foolish this was, but at the time, in my anger, I did this stupid thing. One of the beautiful and very old books I gave away was Don Quixote de la Mancha by Miguel de Cervantez. I can remember watching Raul Julia in Man of La Mancha in Orange County in the early 90's. That was such a wonderful show. I was much younger then and I could only see Don Quixote's great love Dulcinea as this really mean woman. I could only see she was always angry with Don Quixote. What I didn't understand then was that Don Quixote was living out the code of chivalry. At that time, I had never taught the story of King Arthur, so I had no idea about chivalry. More importantly, I did not understand the impact that the character of Don Quixote has on Dulcinea (Aldonza). Lucky for me today I bought an old VHS of Don Quixote with Peter O'Toole and Sophia Loren. I saw the story from a very different perspective. Much older now and having lived a great deal more, I can see what Don Quixote does for her not only by his love, but by his seeing her as she should have been (had her life's path been different) and not as she was. This is surely what my love did for me. He chose me and made me feel as if I was worthy of great love. From my experience, this is rare. At the end of the story, after Don Quixote dies, Aldonza calls herself Dulcinea. She feels different about herself. This is true for me, as well. I go on and I hold my head up high.
Moving through my grief after four years can now handle some laughter and tears. I want and need fewer tears and more laughter.
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