I’m in the midst of finally catching up on much blog reading, after having called in sick yesterday. That cold turned out to be another bout of bronchitis, methinks. I’m actually down to some 20 more posts I need to read (most of which are yours, Pam … sorry! I just thoroughly enjoy reading your posts leisurely, as they are so poignant and beautiful).

And as Hubby (who coincidentally was working at home yesterday) and I flipped through the channels last night, we stumbled on the movie “Love Actually.”

Perfect, both of us thought. As coincidentally we had talked about when we should watch that movie this year. It’s been a yearly tradition for us to watch it around the holidays, as it’s listed as one of my most favorite movies of all time.

I love that it’s a myriad of different love stories that are weaved together, almost seemingly. And that it isn’t just the typical romance love story centered around the holidays. It’s certainly is a story about love during the holidays … but a variety of different loves. From unrequited love, to love lost, to love despite language barriers, to the love of friends and family.

The reason I love to watch this movie around the holidays is not only because it manages to get the childless infertile me into the holiday spirit, but it manages to remind me about what love is supposed to be about.

Not the romanticized version of it … not the one where a person wakes up and suddenly realizes that they can’t live without the other. Or the one where the two stars … despite the all that happens throughout the movie … finally get together in the end.

The love that this movie reminds me about is the every day kind of love. The love that endures the hardship and pain. The love that survives despite the every day things. And the not so every day things.

And for me, this movie reminds me about the kind of love that can survive infertility.