WillThink4Wine

I believe that Love is a Verb.

I came of age at the end of the Flower Power post-hippie generation. Love, Love, Love. What that really seemed to mean to me at the time was that everybody had permission to get stoned, sleep around, dress like bums and be disrespectful. I didn’t know anybody who actually did that, although my brother-in-law was in college working on his Master’s in Nuclear Engineering and he did have long hair and holes in his jeans.

I believe that when someone really loves you, really values you deeply, the words “I Love You” need never be spoken. You will feel the love, all the way to the core of your being.

I once convinced my painfully introverted Mr X to come with me for a weekend up on the river with a dear friend and her husband. I should first tell you that my dear friend is crippled (her words, not mine - she dislikes any politically correct terms. She says “I’m not physically challenged, I’m horizontally gifted!”). I am quite certain that her wonderful hubby would sleep on a bed of nails if it meant that it would give her even a few hours of being free from pain. He would literally surrender his life in exchange for hers. And while he never misses an opportunity to tell her, his actions speak volumes. Oh, he does all the usual tasks; laundry, shopping, cooking, cleaning and worked full-time at the Church. He also does extraordinary things; he always gets the coffee pot ready for her before he leaves for work and never forgets to leave an I Love You note near it. He invented a lift to get her from her scooter (she dislikes wheelchairs, they clash with her shoes) into the boat so she could float down the river with him. He planted a small patch of grass on the patio so she wouldn’t have to go through the ordeal of taking her dogs out while he is out on an errand. I could go on and on… My friends, that is Love in action.

Anyway… While driving home after spending the weekend with them I asked Mr X what he thought of my dear friends. He said, “She treats him like a ****ing slave”.

What? Is that what you saw?

I knew at that exact moment that I would never be able to express to Mr X what I felt was missing in our marriage. If he saw that, what hope did I have with mere words?

I have a niece who’s not actually related to me (her mother and I were friends when she was young, but that’s a story for another time). Her mother and father were divorced badly, and her mother was going through her second divorce. At the time my niece couldn’t understand why they were getting divorced because she knew he loved her mother. I asked her how she knew that. She answered, “Because I heard him tell her”. So I asked her to describe how he treated her. As she described the violent fights, name calling, thrown furniture etc., I saw the light come on in her eyes. So I asked her if she knew that I loved her. She smiled and said “Yes”. I asked her how she knew. She then described all the happy times we’d shared; the sleep-overs, the day-trips, learning to make her first meatloaf, sewing our special pillows, discovering Harry Potter, working in my office, going to the Emeril book-signing, baking cookies, softball games, cello concerts, snuggling up in front of the TV… I don’t have to tell her. She feels it.

Love is a Verb.

Tis the night before Christmas and all through the town,
every shelter is full - we are lost, but not found,
Our numbers are hung on our kennels so bare,
we hope every minute that someone will care,

They’ll come to adopt us and give us the call,
“Come here, Max and Sparkie - come fetch your new ball!!
But now we sit here and think of the days…
we were treated so fondly - we had cute, baby ways,

Once we were little, then we grew and we grew
now we’re no longer young and we’re no longer new.
So out the back door we were thrown like the trash,
they reacted so quickly - why were they so rash?

We “jump on the children:, “don’t come when they call”,
we “bark when they leave us”, climb over the wall.
We should have been neutered, we should have been spayed,
now we suffer the consequence of the errors THEY made.

If only they’d trained us, if only we knew…
we’d have done what they asked us and worshiped them, too.
We were left in the backyard, or worse -let to roam-
now we’re tired and lonely and out of a home.

They dropped us off here and they kissed us good-bye…
“Maybe someone else will give you a try.”
So now here we are, all confused and alone…
in a shelter with others who long for a home.

The kind workers come through with a meal and a pat,
with so many to care for, they can’t stay to chat ,
They move to the next kennel, giving each of us cheer…
we know that they wonder how long we’ll be here.

We lay down to sleep and sweet dreams fill our heads…
of a home filled with love and our own cozy beds.
Then we wake to see sad eyes, brimming with tears -
our friends filled with emptiness, worry, and fear.

If you can’t adopt us and there’s no room at the Inn -
could you help with the bills and fill our food bin?
We count on your kindness each day of the year -
can you give more than hope to everyone here?

Please make a donation to pay for the heat…
and help get us something special to eat.
The shelter that cares for us wants us to live,
and more of us will, if more people will give.

–Author Unknown

I have been inspired by a young girl. I found her blog yesterday but I can not find it today! I cleared my cache! And I cleared my History. If anybody reading this knows which blog I’m talking about, please leave me a comment!

Arggg!!

OK, I’m better now. Anyway, she’s about 10 years old and has decided to countdown the 25 days to Christmas by doing things to help other people. Not necessarily big things, but simple things… small acts of kindness and thoughtfulness. Well, I missed days 1 & 2 but I am dedicated to the remaining 23 days. I am looking for my first opportunity.

This whole idea appeals to me on so many levels, not the least of which is that (IMHO) the true meaning of Christmas is not just blurred, it’s mostly obliterated. Christmas is no longer about Christ. It is all about the big money-making-commercialism ‘thing’ which now starts just before Halloween and ends with the January after-Christmas sales. And every year it seems the retailers continue to broaden the ’season’ of spending. People spend more of what they do not have to give more of what they do not need.

I don’t know how we (me and my seven siblings) managed to grow up without:

• a TV in our bedroom
• a DVD player and every DVD ever made
• a portable DVD player (?)
• an ipod
• a Wii
• an xbox
• a cell phone
• a computer
• every video game every made
• and $100 jeans

In fact, the collective wardrobe of me and my three sisters probably cost less than just one pair of jeans that the kids wear today. Why do their parents actually buy them?

My brothers and sisters all got:

• new pajamas on Christmas Eve
• a stocking to open
• some little trinkets from Santa
• the occassional new coat, shoes and school clothes when hand-me-downs no longer fit any of us

Christmas morning we went to church. Then we came home to a house full of multi-generations of our family for Christmas dinner. It was marvelous!

I am off now to finish fluffing my Christmas tree so that I can begin hanging my treasured ornaments that I have been collecting for most of my life. In fact, ornaments are my very favorite gift, both to give and to receive. I put in some of my favorite Christmas CDs and as I unwrap each special ornament, I OOOH and AHHH over each and every one of them. I pause to remember which special person in my life gave it to me and when. This process takes hours. I look forward to it every year. My three sisters have the same tradition in their homes. It’s truly one of my life’s Simple Pleasures.