Love

I was just reflecting, here again in this office, on Evan, but also on everyone that I have ever loved and lost. I am surrounded by pictures: of my Grandfather who I loved dearly, who I watched suffer in the hospital for months before he died; pictures of my Uncle Bob; many of Evan and I together, as kids. I love Evan's baby pictures, particularly the ones of Evan as a toddler, because he just always has this smirk on his face, like he was up to no good.

I remember a book I was looking over not too long ago, called "Don't Cry Past Tuesday". It's a collection of sermons written by Chuck Poole. Anyway, one of the sermons is called "The Strange Gift of Grief". It talks about what a risk love is-that if we didn't love, than we would never have anything to lose. Would we choose not to take that risk, not to love others with all we have, to avoid the grief we feel if we lost that person? Of course not.

I was talking to my Grandmother yesterday, and she was telling me that she probably thinks too much(runs in the family), but we were talking about how Evan came to visit her when my other Grandmother passed away last September. He drove over to Columbia to see her one day because the three of us were working, just to spend some time with her. She said she thinks about it a lot, and wonders if maybe it was because my other Grandmother had passed away, and he was afraid of how much time she had left, or maybe Evan had some sort of premonition, and wanted to see her before he went back.

The point being, appreciate the time you have with someone, and love them with all you have. Myself first, people so often say it, but don't live it.

I am working on being more "present" in life. In all seriousness, I am working more on detaching myself from my cell phone-in fact, I've been leaving it places on purpose so I don't have it with me all the time and so I won't be constantly checking it. It can wait. No, I don't typically answer my phone when I am with someone, unless it is a short conversation or pressing matter, but I want to be fully present in conversation with whoever I happen to be with. I want them to know that they have my full attention. This is part of loving people and showing them that I care.

A friend apologized to me last night for venting, and I told her I may not always be the best at giving advice, but I was always willing to listen. Isn't it true that many times, that's all we need? Just someone to listen to us? And being present...

I suppose we are all works in progress.