Friday, February 11, 2011
To Be Loved
~Alice Walker, The Color Purple
Valentine's Day is just around the corner, and talk of love is in the air. Of course, most of it is talk from florists and jewelers trying to sell something. However, I've been privy to some really great declarations of love lately. What made them so great is that the people who made those declarations didn't even realize that, in essence, that is exactly what they were doing...
... a father wondered if he is doing everything he can to be a good dad to his daughter.
... friends share a knowing nod and slight smile over an inside joke.
... a fledgling poet musters the courage to share her work with friends.
... a sister and brother laugh together over some childhood misadventure from years ago.
... a nephew spends time joking around with his aunt.
... a group of friends offer sound advice and support to a peer who needs some direction.
All of these were resounding declarations of love. None of it required flowers, jewels, or candy.
The same held true in my own household this past week. Steve has been working insane hours and I barely see him before his head hits the pillow or before he dashes back out the door and off to work. Even so, there are little moments, a touch, a kiss on my sleepy face, the contented sigh as he settles in next to me on the bed. Although Steve often says "I love you," it's the moments in between that show me how truly, madly, deeply loved I really am.
Yesterday was one of those Have-You-Seen-My-Imaginary-Friend-Steve days. He left the house at ohgod o'clock and didn't get home until 11 p.m. (thanks to some clod causing a bit of a catastrophe on the job). I couldn't hang. I had awakened (mostly) when he did, and by 10 p.m. I was on the sofa, nodding off and doing those annoying little reawakening whiplash moves. So, I went to bed, but not before I drew a heart and wrote "you!" on a post-it and stuck it to the coffee pot (which always gets set up the night before).
I barely noticed Steve get home and crawl into bed. I was still fairly zoned when he leaned over the bed and kissed me goodbye this morning. I always tell him I love him before he leaves, but at that time of morning, it typically comes out in a mumbly mutter that sounds like, "Bah luboo.." As usual, the minute I heard the truck leave I stumbled down the stairs in search of the freshly brewed bean that demanded my non-somnia attention. There on my coffee cup was the same post-it I'd put on the bean brewer last night, only in the middle of the heart, in Steve's handwriting, was the word, "Too!" That will probably constitute my Valentine's card from him, and that is just fine by me.
Love wasn't meant to be gaudy and explicit. Love is meant to be as vast as a day in the wilderness and as subtle as the whisper of the trees.
So, while you're waiting for that "perfect" moment that includes flowers and jewelry and saccharin proclamations, take a look around you, take a moment to listen. If you're really paying attention, you'll realize that declarations of love are everywhere.
Posted by Barb Black at 10:18:00 AM