Bedtime in the wake of Valentine’s Day…my baby boy had crashed from the sugar mountain high he was on and was worn out. As he lie in his bed, I bent over for a good night kiss atop his head and just breathed in deep. Have you ever done that? Right where the hair’s “on” button is, that little swirl that begins the mop, just breathed it in so deep you almost hoover the strands right off the scalp? That’s what I did. And that freshly shampooed head, still slightly damp, smells like what I think heaven might…just one of many aromas of heaven. While inhaling that sweet, sweet boy’s scent (because he’s freshly bathed…sweet smell and boy are oxymoronic most times), my heart knew love and knew how beautiful it was and knew how fast time flies and knew how important this was, all in one breath. Funny how one inhale of air felt like a lifetime of all I needed to know. In one breath, all I needed for life. LOVE.
These past few weeks have been, well, life. All around me there’s been sickness, and death, sadness, and loneliness, wonder, but also laughter, and love…you know…life. But the rhythms of it have just been a little louder, a little closer to my heart’s home as of late. And I think these are times when I’m supposed to slow down and stop for a minute and just reflect and think and listen and, if you’re reading this, pontificate.
(Eye roll insert)
But seriously, y’all.
My husband and I lost another friend to a sickness of which I’d like a cure. Addiction. I’m not the only one, I know. The rate of this disease is growing at a frighteningly alarming rate and the heartbreak and sadness and just utter… loss… for this world of these most precious souls is of a heavy nature that this mama’s heart cannot bear the weight. It’s been said the saddest words ever penned in the English language are, “What could have been,” and I’ll testify to the truth of them. My heart breaks when I think that his mama once smelled his sweet dark-haired head as she tucked him in, her little boy…love. It’s just so sad.
There are billions of people on this earth: we’re more connected than ever, with devices that provide instantaneous access to humanity, places to go and see people 24 hours a day all seven of those days, and yet people still feel lonely. We’ve got all you can eat buffets and 120 oz slurpees, and cars, and clothes, and Amazon that will deliver anything, and yet people are still empty. There’s sunshine and rainbows, comedians and clowns, music and dogs, chocolate and naps, and TARGET, and yet with all of that happiness, people are still sad. While not an exhaustive list by any means, and in no way meaning to simplify the complexities of life, there’s one thing that ALL of this makes me think:
It’s not any of those things that people need. People NEED love.
Which begets the question: Am I giving out the love I have to give?
And the answer is: I can do better.
Love them. Not for who I want them to be (and what a pompous, self-righteous thought that I should be the one deciding how a person should be), not for what they can do for me, not for what I need from them. In fact: opposite.
Love them for who they are, love them for what I can do for them, love them for what they need from me. Less self, more others.
These conclusions became a little more concise and crystallized after talking with a dear friend after the death of our mutual friend. This girl has the biggest heart that I’m often perplexed at how it fits in her petite frame. In a text to me she said,
“Love and kindness are literally all that matter.”
That line has been rolling around in my head and my heart since reading it…it really is truth. I’m not meaning to imply that love can “fix” addiction or that lack of love “caused” it. NOT AT ALL. That would be a way oversimplification of the complexity and difficultly of the mental illness of addiction. And I’m also not implying that love “fixes,” really, at all. But love covers. Love is what we can do. Love is what we need to do. Love takes the course of action. Love knows what to do. Love just knows. Love is. Love does.
And as sappy as that sounds, and as overused the word is (not only in this blog post), I really mean it.
So, I’m going to try to do it better. Love people.
Like the lady behind me at Wal Mart that may have not looked in the mirror before she left home (I’m not judging, I’m not…y’all should have seen me at CVS this morning…forgot to brush my teefies and all) that keeps bumping my fanny (it’s a sizeable target) with her overloaded buggy as she hollers at her toddler and tweenie that are begging for a bag of chips. Love her and offer a fist bump in solidarity to going braless and to not letting the little people take us down.
Like the guy who is driving like his pants are on fire, all over the place and too fast, but meets me at the stop light and in my direct line of sight. You know what I could do (yes you do, you do), but I’m going to choose love instead and smile.
Like the well coiffed middle-aged lady that side eyes me with her nose almost scraping the ceiling as I give my child his iPad and a diet coke and chewing gum after his white meal of pasta and potato chips that’s really not her business, but it’s ok. I’m gonna love her anyway. Even pity her a little bit, because her neck has to hurt from the nose elevation. And for Pete’s sake. The coke was diet!
And that man of mine. The one that can’t find the tube of toothpaste in my Marie Kondo-ed drawer to save his life but can find his Titeleist golf ball in a field of blooming cotton in the pouring rain without one of his contacts in. I’m gonna love him too. After he brushes those teeth.
Like the man sitting by himself in the large sanctuary, looking timid and a little sheepish and a little less like me and the others present and like he feels like he doesn’t belong (when he absolutely does), I’m going to love him.
Like the grieving mama, whose heart has shattered beyond repair, who sits lonely with her thoughts and feelings, who could maybe use a hug, or a meal, or just to talk about that son of hers, I’m going to love her too.
What’s all that look like? I don’t know yet, but love does.
Love and kindness are really all that matter.
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