Tuesday, September 30, 2014

To the one who understands me the most... This is dangerous ground being tread right here. lol I hope no one gets offended. One of my bestest friends for the past, oh, 23 years, is still around giving me a lot of what I need. It's interesting when I think about our relationship and the ups and downs that we've had. Granted, we haven't really had any downs. There was that time he wasn't happy about my wanting pledge for a sorority, and there was that other time he said something that I read too much into and took to heart, but other than those times I can say it's been a pretty smooth ride. Don't know what I would do without him really. It's amazing to me when I consider certain friends and how long I've known them with respect to them putting up with me. We have all gone through so many changes and to think we have managed to stay in sync relationship-wise...how do I explain that? I've gone through my phases, my mood swings, my changes in perspective, changes in my maturity level and tolerance, I've formed and re-formed some opinions. And yet still, he remains. Not all have. Not all would want to. I wouldn't want them all to. Yet he remains. And I'm thankful.

Friday, September 26, 2014

Life and death, love and indifference. Every funeral I attend makes me reflect on my life. Considering how many I've been to lately you can bet I've been doing a lot of thinking. The funeral before last, a few weeks ago, was for vibrant young lady, not much older than myself, who had cancer. I didn't know her personally. She was a member of my church for a short time, but I am very close to someone who did know her well, and so I went to show general support. As I sat there listening to each person who went up to speak I inevitably began to wonder what people would be saying about me at my funeral (morbid thoughts, I know). I went further to think about what I would want to say for my loved ones. And so I started writing what I call "Love Letters" in my head to each of my friends, thanking them for sticking with me and telling them all what I think of them. Why wait until they pass away, right? I figured that I could write the letters with the intention that they be delivered upon my death. And so the stream of consciousness continues and I didn't stop there. Why wait until I die? It should be easy to tell them everything now. Yes, we know that we "love" each other by the mere fact that we stay in each others' lives to some degree, but it's always nice to be specifically reminded of what you mean to someone. So, I thought about this some more - why don't we show appreciation more - and the only thing I could figure is that when you are about to wear your heart on your sleeve like that, there is a fear of being hurt. (I'd love to hear some thoughts on this. Are we lazy? Are we selfish? Self-centered?) So, yes, I think I'm going to write some letters. I adore the written word. How much more personal can you get than to pour out your heart onto paper knowing that you can't take your words back, knowing the person reading it just might keep it and read over and over again. There is no hiding from your words when they are written down. Unlike the spoken word that is left to the memory, that can be forgotten or twisted or taken out of context, the written word minimizes the chances of that happening. Thoughts?

Sunday, September 21, 2014

It would be death, wouldn't it? To be the catalyst for me to write again. I've been to more funerals in the past two years than birthday parties and weddings combined. Yet here I am trying to find a way to attend yet another. What do you do when the ones you love are hurting and you can't be there to even give a hug? How do you comfort them when a part of them has gone? As Seventh-day Adventist Christians we believe that the dead sleep until Christ's return, at which time those who died with faith, and those alive who believe, will be taken up (I Thessalonians 4:16-18). But that is then. What about now? How do you tell a child his father isn't coming home? How do you tell a mother that she has to bury her son?? This is now. They have to make it through today. I woke up this morning. I woke up to my daughter in my arms, alive, and warm, and beautiful, and so much promise. I looked at my son when he came in the room and all I can do is look at him and think of the mother by her son's hospital bed watching, hoping, praying, that he wakes up but never does. Two friends who I hold dear to my heart have lost their brother. And there's nothing any of us can do about it. #weweremeanttoliveconnected