Monday, November 01, 2004

Love does it. It has to be love. Nothing else carries as much energy. I have never found anything else that is as motivating as love. Yes, it is love.

As you may have read my mom died. It has been nearly two months now. I suppose that is why these blog pages have been left idle. I have not had much to say. I have had a lot to think about. But those thoughts do not want to allow themselves to be turned into words. But for the sake of remembering I am going to say some of them anyway.

I am not sorry that she died. Life was going to get worse for her. Wellness was not on her menu. But I keep reaching for the phone. I keep having to stop myself from walking to the car to go and see her. I suppose that whoever lives in her apartment now would not appreciate it very much if I should stroll through their door. On the other hand I would be carrying a cup of hot chocolate and so maybe I would be welcome after all. It is best that I do not find out. Today has been tougher than most. It has been the toughest of all of the days so far. There does not seem to be any reason why. Usually I have one of those urges once or twice per day. Today I have had them once or twice per hour. It has made me sad.

But back to that love thing I was talking about. In the midst of mourning I was ambushed by love. A love so amazing, so over whelming, that it took me by storm. It should not have. I have been experiencing this love for many years now. Thirty one years to be exact. It would seem that my wife ... my incredible wife ... took my nightmares upon herself. The thought of cleaning out mom's home again was really messing me up. I knew that I had to do it but it was just really doing a number on me.

And then she stepped in. My wife. And she just ... did it. She took over. She gathered a few friends and cleaned the place out. Yes, I moved a few pieces of furniture. But really not much. And after I moved those ... I never had to go back into the apartment. Oh, I went back one time. But it was by choice. I wanted something special to place in my office that would remind me of my mother. And I found it. That is the last time I went into that place. Unlike the horrendous event 4 years ago when I single handedly cleaned out my parents retirement home and moved my mom here, this time I had very little to do with it. Instead I watched my wife come home night after night, exhausted by pouring herself out for me. For me. She cleaned. She repaired. She threw out. She gave away. And I felt loved. Very, very, loved. I do not know how to thank her. There seems to be only one adequate response to this kind of love. One must respond to love ... with love. Fierce love. Unquenchable love. Love that is divine.

May I be able to pour that kind of love out on this woman who is God's gift to me. And should she read this little note I want to say with all of my heart ... thank you.