My husband and I are in our fifteenth year of married life.  We met seventeen years ago when I was managing a restaurant. At that time, he was just someone to whom I served the freshest coffee available. It was something he insisted upon. He was a customer and my staff dubbed him “Mr. Coffee.” Six months after our first meeting, Mr. Coffee became Steve. He asked me out to dinner one Saturday afternoon. I couldn’t say “yes” until he gave me his name. That one date turned into many more. Before either of us knew it, we were in a relationship.   

The memories of our early days together can always make me smile and make those days when love was all we needed seem like just yesterday. The smell of fresh coffee summons those feelings like nothing else. It’s a great way to start my day. Each one starts with the smell of brewing coffee. Believe me, when I tell you there are mornings when I need to be reminded of that simpler time. There are days when his sincere promise to do the dishes at the start of the day and finding the nasty things still in the sink at the end of the day becomes far more than just dirty dishes and instead turns into the culmination of every irritant I’ve felt for a month. Battle ensues. Wounded, each of us in need of healing and knowing that love is, after all, not all we need is a terrifying place to be. We need so much as individuals that bridging the chasm back to each other can be hard work. Lest you think I’ve become cynical, were you to ask Sir Paul McCartney if he still thinks that sentiment is as true today as it was when he penned the song “Love Is All You Need” so many years ago, he would, I’m certain, politely and unequivocally say “No!” especially in light of his divorce from Heather Mills.

The subject of relationships has been on my mind in recent days and not for any bad reason. It’s just that I read Nicholas Sparks’ Dear John. It is the story of a soldier home on leave and a young woman named Savannah with whom he falls irretrievably and irrefutably in love in less than two weeks. She returns that love with a passion and ardor that surprises her. By the time John returns to duty, they are convinced that this love will last forever, that they will live together until death parts them. The odd thing is that life parts them; time, distance, obligation, duty and responsibility and growing up become the shoals on which their love founders. That seems rather unfair to me—ordinary things tainting love, so new and pristine.

Falling in love may happen quickly, but falling out of love takes time. Mr. Sparks has a knack for plumbing the depths of a relationship when he writes. He does it with the delicacy of a surgeon and the strength of a hurricane. Each emotion is scrutinized, savored, tasted and digested by the reader as the character is experiencing it. Each misstep along the way is magnified so that no detail is left unexamined. I found myself reliving my own relationship at the same time John and Savannah discovered their’s—those first days, ripe with promise and romance and the exquisite bliss of first kisses, long deep kisses and learning to trust Steve with my heart and learning to hold his heart in the palm of my hand, marveling at the joy that was ours.

Like a leaf in a gale force wind, I rode the words that Nicholas Sparks so masterfully crafted as he took me along on John’s journey into learning who he was after those first two weeks with his lovely Savannah. The ride was at once torturous, exhilarating, rich and compelling. John eventually learns, as we all ultimately must, what it truly means to love someone. It is not only Savannah that he learns to love more than his own happiness but his father too. The book is told from John’s perspective and illustrates how difficult relationships are when the skills for them are not learned from the cradle. The story of John and Savannah is underscored by John’s frustration with what he perceives as his father’s unwillingness make efforts at a different kind of relationship with him, a more grown-up kind of friendship. It is a relationship for which John hungers, and expressed with rebellion growing up. Like the musical score in a movie, this theme can be heard throughout the tale.

This book is brilliant, like a full moon on a summer night. Oh, I cried, I laughed, I mourned and I felt such delight as I sucked the meaning out of every paragraph and nuance as John learned that love was not all that two people need to have a relationship that lasts a lifetime. How Sparks manages to catch the sparks (no pun intended) of love that live in each of us and see into a heart so cleanly is a miracle. The man is a genius!

When I finished the book, I knew how very lucky I was to have more than seventeen years in a relationship with the love of my life. I’m grateful that the smell of fresh coffee can take me back to the day of hope and promise, especially on those days when reality rears its indifferent head, leaving a trail of unpaid bills, cranky water heaters, dirty dishes or expectations unmet. Love is not all you need, but it’s a darn good start and a great place to return to in any relationship. 

If you’ve forgotten, dear reader, the joys of the love in your life, read Dear John and you might just remember why the significant one in your life is significant after all. This story will make you feel so much. Enjoy the journey.


At age 10, Anne realized she was never going to get to be Miss America since reading a book was not an acceptable talent. So she went on to get a job and raise a family. Along the way, she fixed meals, picked up toys, helped with homework, and collected a drawer full of rejection slips for her “great American novel.” It was not all bad, however, since she ended up wallpapering a closet with them. She currently designs and creates greeting cards for her tiny company, The Frog Prints, LLC, and also works full-time as a Training Specialist. Anne is currently tethered to reality by a loving spouse, two dogs and the occasional hurricane that blows through Florida, although falling headlong and happily into a book is still her favorite “talent.” Contact Anne Michael.