Driveway Elegies

Modern Love


How did you come up with the name modern love well, it was part of a process. Yeah. We had all these different names that we tried and. I remember one of them was truly madly deeply. And I would now be called truly madly deeply editor, which is a really different kind of job title. Modern love editor But I thought of the David Bowie Song Modern Love. In suggesting modern love and literally almost any time I see. The words modern love I mean, it's worn off a little bit over the years but But it's hard for me not to read modern love and automatically hear. Hear that, Song. Would you sing it for our listeners Know because I, don't know that words but you have the. summit. Yeah. Yeah Love locks beside me nine. The second is walks beside me. Put my faith in God. And no religious. That's about as I can do. But there was a great. Story that. Spun. Out of that. Of writer had sent an essay, it didn't really work in the end, but it was about her covering love songs for other random people. She would send them a little audio file playing Ukulele and singing a cover of some song Ukulele, and that's what the essay was about. And when I rejected a A week or two passed and I this email. That I didn't. Recognize the name or anything and open it up, and there was no message there was just an audio file. I pressed play a little. Worried that it was some. Virus or whatever. Pay. Was Her playing always modern love. The UKULELE. I went back and read her essay. Oh, the sweetest thing. And did you ever published her essay? Now I didn't. But it kind of hard not to. into. Today's essay is tracking the demise of my marriage on Google maps by Maggie Smith. Was published in January twenty nineteen and is read by ORLA Cassidy. My husband moved out about six weeks ago. Marking the end of our nearly nineteen year relationship. But Google maps hasn't noticed yet. That morning I had whisked the children away. So he and two friends from law school could load his things into a U. Haul and drive to the house he had rented. We had agreed that he would be the one to move out. And we agreed on what he would take. Dining, room set and painting that had belonged to his late boss. The sideboards, we had bought to hold our wedding dishes. And the Antique armoire neighboring our first apartment complex had left us because it wouldn't fit in his truck. I had packed most of my husband's things because he works long hours. I had sifted through our books and CDs, our Christmas ornaments, coffee mugs, the blender, his the food processor mine, the biscuit cutter his. The muffin tin mine. The life we had lived. Split. Between us. I still haven't seen his house. Only a few blocks away. I'm not sure what possessed me to Google our address a few weeks ago I'll on a writing residency in. Tucson. Far From my home in Ohio. But I did. And right was. My house on Google maps. Still inside. And still I think in love with me.

Coming up next