Ending a friendship is like closing and packing up a room in your heart.
She tenderly took each memory in her hands, taking a moment to reflect
on it and the emotions and story that came with each piece before
carefully wrapping it in tissue, while wiping away the tears that
accompanied them.
She then lovingly placed each memory back away in her heart chamber for safe keeping.
Carefully closing the heart shaped box, she inscribed on the side,
'Sleep with the angels'.....quietly crying as she gently and very slowly
pulled the door shut behind her.
"Memory
is a way of holding onto the things you love, the things you are, the
things you never want to lose." ~From the television show The Wonder Years
July 28, 2014
July 17, 2014
Here.....Take My Sword
I had just met him for the first time a few hours earlier.
We had gone out for breakfast together,
spent time at the park scampering, and laughing, and feeding the squirrels,
and then he had taken me to his home to show me his latest natural experimental lab,
after which, we actually engaged in a belly-laughing, fun, playful sword fight in his basement.
Boy did I have a fantastic time, as it had been very long since I had been with such a sweet-hearted, genuinely fun, spontaneously, caring and thoughtful guy.
His eyes sparkled with joy and enthusiasm for life.
His laugh came from deep within, which was infectious and refreshing at the same time.
His wisdom and candor were intriguing.
His heart, pure, and unadulterated.
He had no fear of sharing his emotions, authentically speaking the feelings he was experiencing deep within.
And he was present-in the moment-fully enjoying, literally every minute of me and of my company.
Back in his home, when we took our positions for our sword bout he had given me the weaker, older, flimsy sword which is common practice among four-year old boys. But it seemed fair, being that I do have an age, strength and height advantage over him.
So we took our places, and following his rules and directions we engaged in a fencing competition of sorts. We were serious and funny and all over the place advancing and retreating as we swatted our swords. It was good exercise physically but more-so emotionally because in those moments I was living in the present, unaware of anything outside that basement except the two of us playing.
However, our time was cut short and it was time for me to leave.
We said our goodbyes and as I headed out the door to the car, he came running to me with his new, pristine, strong sword, holding it out saying, "Here, take my sword."
It was one of those, this-will-be-a-lasting-memory-in-the-moment memories.
One that you wish had been video taped so it could be reviewed when a self-worth-reminder boost and a heart-hug was needed.
You could not have bottled a more true, genuine, heartfelt, act of love and sacrifice.
I knew what that sword meant to him, and although we had only known each other for not even half of a day, he wanted to give me one of his most prized possessions.
He had never asked my age, or what I do for a living, or what my income was, or how much I weigh.
He didn't even know my last name, but none of those things were important to him.
He had felt something in his heart for me, and that was all that mattered to him.
He did not let facts, or unimportant details, affect how he felt and his desire to express that.
It was one of those experiences that stay with you, and that set an example to remember.
It was a forever-in-your-heart-vault keepsake, a priceless gift.
It is a standard of what to expect from a man.
A truly sweet-hearted, genuinely fun, spontaneously, caring and thoughtful guy.
Someone who will give you his best, bringing out your best because of it.
It is a fight worth fighting.
"Love isn't when there are no fights in the relationship, love is when once the fight ends, love is still there."
We had gone out for breakfast together,
spent time at the park scampering, and laughing, and feeding the squirrels,
and then he had taken me to his home to show me his latest natural experimental lab,
after which, we actually engaged in a belly-laughing, fun, playful sword fight in his basement.
Boy did I have a fantastic time, as it had been very long since I had been with such a sweet-hearted, genuinely fun, spontaneously, caring and thoughtful guy.
His eyes sparkled with joy and enthusiasm for life.
His laugh came from deep within, which was infectious and refreshing at the same time.
His wisdom and candor were intriguing.
His heart, pure, and unadulterated.
He had no fear of sharing his emotions, authentically speaking the feelings he was experiencing deep within.
And he was present-in the moment-fully enjoying, literally every minute of me and of my company.
Back in his home, when we took our positions for our sword bout he had given me the weaker, older, flimsy sword which is common practice among four-year old boys. But it seemed fair, being that I do have an age, strength and height advantage over him.
So we took our places, and following his rules and directions we engaged in a fencing competition of sorts. We were serious and funny and all over the place advancing and retreating as we swatted our swords. It was good exercise physically but more-so emotionally because in those moments I was living in the present, unaware of anything outside that basement except the two of us playing.
However, our time was cut short and it was time for me to leave.
We said our goodbyes and as I headed out the door to the car, he came running to me with his new, pristine, strong sword, holding it out saying, "Here, take my sword."
It was one of those, this-will-be-a-lasting-memory-in-the-moment memories.
One that you wish had been video taped so it could be reviewed when a self-worth-reminder boost and a heart-hug was needed.
You could not have bottled a more true, genuine, heartfelt, act of love and sacrifice.
I knew what that sword meant to him, and although we had only known each other for not even half of a day, he wanted to give me one of his most prized possessions.
He had never asked my age, or what I do for a living, or what my income was, or how much I weigh.
He didn't even know my last name, but none of those things were important to him.
He had felt something in his heart for me, and that was all that mattered to him.
He did not let facts, or unimportant details, affect how he felt and his desire to express that.
It was one of those experiences that stay with you, and that set an example to remember.
It was a forever-in-your-heart-vault keepsake, a priceless gift.
It is a standard of what to expect from a man.
A truly sweet-hearted, genuinely fun, spontaneously, caring and thoughtful guy.
Someone who will give you his best, bringing out your best because of it.
It is a fight worth fighting.
"Love isn't when there are no fights in the relationship, love is when once the fight ends, love is still there."
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