"Don't it mean I love you? Think it means I love you."
From my short (nearly) 21 years of life, I have seen time and time again those that surround me ask "What is love? Do I really love him/her? How will I know when I truly love someone?"
Though I don't proclaim to be better educated than any with this pondering, I have lately given this idea much thought; I don't think I've come to a new and praise-worthy solution, but I can share what it means to me. It all started making sense after...well, after a progression of time really, since forever ago until several short minutes ago, watching "Mansfield Park," based on a Jane Austen novel. One of the characters states, "There are as many forms of love as there are moments in time." And I think that that sums up what I've been thinking about love--any conclusion I've come to has likely been on the same level of intellect though not expressed nearly as well.
Perhaps it's the way words evade me when it comes to something so important; I can speak clearly, concisely, and professionally about nearly anything: education, money, society, and so on but when someone asks me for my personal feelings towards them, as a person, I often find my tongue and mind to simply not want to cooperate at all, and am left with such nonsense phrases as, "I can't explain it, I just do [love/care for you]!"
This is often inefficient and may have left the other person not believing me whatsoever. And, I don't blame him (or her). But this idea of forms of love--this portrays nearly every thought I've had as of late, and here's how (please note that these do not all describe the same people, or types of love):
I love you when get a text from you, showing that you're using your brain, unlike most highschoolers your age.
I love you when you call me, just to make sure I'm alright.
I love you when you wrap your arms tightly around me.
I love you when complain about work, because you trust me to not judge you based on your opinion of others.
I love you when you say exactly what I'm thinking.
I love you when you say something I can challenge.
I love you when I teach you something new; I also love you when I can learn from you at the same time.
I love you when you take risks for me.
I love you when you look into my eyes, and say nothing.
I love you when you ask me for help, it shows that you think highly of my abilities.
I love you when you take the time to explain what you're thinking; it shows you care about me.
I love you when you tell me I'm beautiful, or gorgeous; I know you never mean (solely) physically.
I love you when you talk about leaving town, and escaping to another state, or even country; it shows me that you have big dreams, and trust me to be able to dream with you.
I love you when you tell me you can't buy my groceries, but will gladly take me grocery shopping with you; it shows me that you value our time together.
I love you when you tell me about being afraid of the future; it shows me that you can depend on me to understand and help in whatever way I can.
I love you when you play me a new song, or recommend a new book; it shows that you want to incorporate me into one of your true loves.
I love you when you play the piano; the improvisation shows you are proud of your talent, and want to share it with me.
I love you when you raise your hand to ask me a question; it shows that you know I'll help you find an answer.
I love you when you call me up late at night; it shows that our old friendship still means to you what it means to me.
I love you when you write me postcards from other states and countries; it shows that, even when away, you're thinking of me.
I love you when I get a message saying, "Morseland tonight?" because it shows I've been incorporated into a strong group of friends with a true bond.
I love you when you kiss me; it tells me that you care much about making me happy as you do being happy.
I love you when I cook you dinner; your appreciation is worth far more than any meal I'll provide you.
I love you when you tell me you don't care that I walk differently, or eat differently, than most people; it shows that you embrace my differences rather than ostracizing me for them.
I love you when you ask my opinion on something, even if it's just clothing, because it shows me that you value my opinion as much as I value yours.
I love you when you tell me I need another surgery, or a new medicine, because it shows that you're trying to preserve my health for as long as possible.
I love you when you talk to me about other girls who are beautiful; it shows that you trust me not to get angry, or jealous. Instead, I learn to respect your opinion; you give me the same in return.
I love you even when you call me with a computer question; though at times it feels as though you're ungrateful, I know you wouldn't feel comfortable calling "just anyone," and it warms my heart to know that you can trust me to be honest and steadfast in helping you.
I love you when you look at me and tell me there is no God, because I believe the same thing, and I revel in the fact that we can bond over this.
I love you when you call me and share your drunken philosophies late at night (or early in the morning), because I have another opportunity to learn more about you.
I love you when you complain about your summer reading; even though you think you're "above" it, I know you'll learn something.
I love you when you text me something so hilariously funny that I have the urge to spit out whatever's in my mouth; it shows me that you know me well enough to know what I'll appreciate, and care about me enough to share it with me.
I love you every day that you don't smoke a cigarette; it shows me that even though you set a bad example for me growing up, you did have the sense to change your ways.
I love you every time you poke me on facebook, because even though we have each moved on to other relationships, it shows that you still think of me as I think of you, and that we can still find some common, communicative ground.
I love you when you tell me you love me; it inspires hope in me that maybe someone realizes love the way in which I have for so long.
So then, what is love? I look at some of the words I use above, and I see: inspire, show, share, teach, learn, opportunity, trust, value, appreciate, bond, friendship...just to name a few. I don't think that love is one thing; rather, love is a combination of some (if not all) of these things. For me, love is not what love is for you. Likewise, for Sally or Tommy or Billy or Jen, love is something entirely different. Love is a moment. And, the people we love the most are those with whom we spend the most loving moments. I'm lucky enough to have a few of those people in my life; though I certainly can't proclaim to spend every single solitary moment loving them, I can say that I spend many moments loving them...inspiring them, trusting them, learning from them, bonding with them, appreciating them, valuing them, sharing with them, showing them (or being shown by them), and so on. Te amo, te amo...it's not one thing. It's many things, and it's amazing.
As I was writing this list and thinking of the people I was describing, it came to my attention that I was not simply describing thoughts. Nor was I simply describing words. Nor was I simply describing actions. I was describing a combination of thoughts, words, and actions, and my reactions to them. As I think about how, when, where, or why I love someone else, I realize that I love each and every person in a different way at a different time. I realize that each person that I love holds a significant place in my life, and I can say that I love each person differently...because there are as many forms of love as there are moments in time, and with each passing moment, I love you in a different way.
Showing posts with label Love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Love. Show all posts
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Dear Poppy
Today, for the last time in my life, I said goodbye to my Poppy.
Well, I didn't physically say goodbye. We were at a funeral home, and really there are way too many folks at funeral homes for me to actually be able to comfortably say goodbye to someone who has died. But anyway, today was the last day I'll be able to see my Poppy, in the 3D, at least. Two of my cousins as well as my aunt talked for a bit about my Poppy today, and that was truly great. It was the one way I'd want him to be remembered: we told stories.
My cousin, Adam, probably said what I felt was closest to my thoughts about Poppy. Adam described himself as "not exactly religious," and I am going to go so far as to actually say what I mean, I am an atheist. I don't believe Poppy is "in a better place," or that he's "happy now." I guess I could go so far as to say that he's not in any pain--he's dead. Adam summed it up best when he said that although Poppy didn't "go" anywhere, he is still here--in each and every one of his kids, grandkids, and great-grandkids.
And, that's true.
We will always remember Poppy stories. Poppy lessons. Every time I turn off a light, I think of Poppy. "You're not in that room, what the hell are you gonna leave the light on for?" And, I attribute my ability to (almost) say "A big black bug bit a big black bear and the big black bear bled blood!" in one breath without mispronouncing many of the words! :P Poppy taught us that life is what you make out of it. He played minor league baseball for Chicago, and had a "very promising" future until he blew out his knee. That didn't stop him, though. He went on to lead a very successful life, supporting a wife and three children, one of which grew up to bear me. He taught them, and us, never to expect a handout (but to take one when offered), and that we'd have in life what we made on our own count. He taught my dad this the hard way, by not paying for his schooling after high school, though the lesson translated over and I don't think I've ever expected a handout from my parents.
In his old age (as in, more recently), he taught me what it meant to truly care for someone. He and my Nanny were married for 61 years. Most people don't get the opportunity to experience ANYTHING for 61 years, except maybe being alive. I was reading through some of the old scrapbooks my Nanny kept, and in it were their anniversary cards from the first few years of their marriage. They described each other in such specifically romantic terms, telling each other that they were truly living the "best years of their lives." I don't know that I'll ever get to experience what they had...but their example has certainly proven to me what love is, and has set a standard to which I'd like to live up. So far, I haven't...but I plan to, and continue to relish the fact that I can aspire to a love as great as what Nanny and Poppy had.
In short, this says it best:
Dear Bobbie
Poppy, goodbye. You are loved, respected, honored, and missed. I love you. I miss you. I will carry you on in my memory, and in the way I live my life... always.
<3
Well, I didn't physically say goodbye. We were at a funeral home, and really there are way too many folks at funeral homes for me to actually be able to comfortably say goodbye to someone who has died. But anyway, today was the last day I'll be able to see my Poppy, in the 3D, at least. Two of my cousins as well as my aunt talked for a bit about my Poppy today, and that was truly great. It was the one way I'd want him to be remembered: we told stories.
My cousin, Adam, probably said what I felt was closest to my thoughts about Poppy. Adam described himself as "not exactly religious," and I am going to go so far as to actually say what I mean, I am an atheist. I don't believe Poppy is "in a better place," or that he's "happy now." I guess I could go so far as to say that he's not in any pain--he's dead. Adam summed it up best when he said that although Poppy didn't "go" anywhere, he is still here--in each and every one of his kids, grandkids, and great-grandkids.
And, that's true.
We will always remember Poppy stories. Poppy lessons. Every time I turn off a light, I think of Poppy. "You're not in that room, what the hell are you gonna leave the light on for?" And, I attribute my ability to (almost) say "A big black bug bit a big black bear and the big black bear bled blood!" in one breath without mispronouncing many of the words! :P Poppy taught us that life is what you make out of it. He played minor league baseball for Chicago, and had a "very promising" future until he blew out his knee. That didn't stop him, though. He went on to lead a very successful life, supporting a wife and three children, one of which grew up to bear me. He taught them, and us, never to expect a handout (but to take one when offered), and that we'd have in life what we made on our own count. He taught my dad this the hard way, by not paying for his schooling after high school, though the lesson translated over and I don't think I've ever expected a handout from my parents.
In his old age (as in, more recently), he taught me what it meant to truly care for someone. He and my Nanny were married for 61 years. Most people don't get the opportunity to experience ANYTHING for 61 years, except maybe being alive. I was reading through some of the old scrapbooks my Nanny kept, and in it were their anniversary cards from the first few years of their marriage. They described each other in such specifically romantic terms, telling each other that they were truly living the "best years of their lives." I don't know that I'll ever get to experience what they had...but their example has certainly proven to me what love is, and has set a standard to which I'd like to live up. So far, I haven't...but I plan to, and continue to relish the fact that I can aspire to a love as great as what Nanny and Poppy had.
In short, this says it best:
Dear Bobbie
Poppy, goodbye. You are loved, respected, honored, and missed. I love you. I miss you. I will carry you on in my memory, and in the way I live my life... always.
<3
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Breathe, just breathe.
Sitting here, it's almost 4 AM, and I'm not tired. I want to do what I want to do, and I don't know of anyone awake to ask "is this a good idea?" So, for the first time in a while, concerning this part of my life at least, I take the stand.
Except, I'm not making any calls. And, it's he who doesn't love me, not the other way around. Otherwise, pretty much.
And what I like most about this song is (well, I like the whole thing, as a story) the part that says "Life's like an hourglass, glued to the table."
Ain't that the truth? I think the most important thing about the image is that it's glued to the table--there's no flipping it back over for more time, or turning it on its side to stop the sand from flowing from the top into the bottom half. It's going to go on, no matter how hard you tug on it to pull it up, to dissolve the glue...in the end, it's fruitless, and you're better off forgetting about the damn thing, and going and living your life.
"Help me to accept the things I cannot change," like people's feelings, emotions, and desires. And, ultimately, help me accept the actions of others, even when I disagree or don't comprehend the logic behind the decision. It's there. Help me to accept that, and help me to be at peace with it.
"Help me to change the things I can," like my responses to other people, both physically, verbally, emotionally, and otherwise. Help me keep myself in check, and help me to constantly be able to scrutinize my life from a somewhat objective perspective; without this third party perspective, I will not be able to understand my own motives, or the motives of others.
"And help make me wise enough to know the difference," which is debatabley* the hardest, and therefore most important part of this whole process. I've spent a lot of my time lately thinking about why I can't change the things I can't change, and even for a while not being able to recognize them as unchangeable, for me at least. For example, I cannot just step up, snap my fingers, and change how someone feels about me. Although most desirable for the short term, this likely would have caused problems in the long run. However, I suffered a lot of unnecessary grief due to my inability to recognize this fact.
Help me accept the things I cannot change.
Help me to change the things I can.
Help me to be wise enough to know the difference.
Though I'm not religious, so I'm not reciting this to a higher power, I do ask this of my friends, my family--those there to support me, no matter what the cause. I also write it like this to remind myself that belief that I can do one thing (or conversely, cannot) can change me to such a great degree. So, lastly, I'm reminding myself that I need to accept, change, and be wise, ultimately. Easier said than done, that's for sure.
But, not entirely something to give up on. There are always new prospects, and every day comes with a new dawn.
*(there is no real spelling for that word, right?)
2 AM and she calls me 'cause I'm still awake,
"Can you help me unravel my latest mistake?,
I don't love him. Winter just wasn't my season"
Yeah we walk through the doors, so accusing their eyes
Like they have any right at all to criticize,
Hypocrites. You're all here for the very same reason
'Cause you can't jump the track, we're like cars on a cable
And life's like an hourglass, glued to the table
No one can find the rewind button, girl.
So cradle your head in your hands
And breathe... just breathe,
Oh breathe, just breathe
Except, I'm not making any calls. And, it's he who doesn't love me, not the other way around. Otherwise, pretty much.
And what I like most about this song is (well, I like the whole thing, as a story) the part that says "Life's like an hourglass, glued to the table."
Ain't that the truth? I think the most important thing about the image is that it's glued to the table--there's no flipping it back over for more time, or turning it on its side to stop the sand from flowing from the top into the bottom half. It's going to go on, no matter how hard you tug on it to pull it up, to dissolve the glue...in the end, it's fruitless, and you're better off forgetting about the damn thing, and going and living your life.
"Help me to accept the things I cannot change," like people's feelings, emotions, and desires. And, ultimately, help me accept the actions of others, even when I disagree or don't comprehend the logic behind the decision. It's there. Help me to accept that, and help me to be at peace with it.
"Help me to change the things I can," like my responses to other people, both physically, verbally, emotionally, and otherwise. Help me keep myself in check, and help me to constantly be able to scrutinize my life from a somewhat objective perspective; without this third party perspective, I will not be able to understand my own motives, or the motives of others.
"And help make me wise enough to know the difference," which is debatabley* the hardest, and therefore most important part of this whole process. I've spent a lot of my time lately thinking about why I can't change the things I can't change, and even for a while not being able to recognize them as unchangeable, for me at least. For example, I cannot just step up, snap my fingers, and change how someone feels about me. Although most desirable for the short term, this likely would have caused problems in the long run. However, I suffered a lot of unnecessary grief due to my inability to recognize this fact.
Help me accept the things I cannot change.
Help me to change the things I can.
Help me to be wise enough to know the difference.
Though I'm not religious, so I'm not reciting this to a higher power, I do ask this of my friends, my family--those there to support me, no matter what the cause. I also write it like this to remind myself that belief that I can do one thing (or conversely, cannot) can change me to such a great degree. So, lastly, I'm reminding myself that I need to accept, change, and be wise, ultimately. Easier said than done, that's for sure.
But, not entirely something to give up on. There are always new prospects, and every day comes with a new dawn.
2 AM and I'm still awake, writing a song--"2AM Breathe" by Anna Nalick
If I get it all down on paper, it's no longer inside of me,
Threatening the life it belongs to
And I feel like I'm naked in front of the crowd
Cause these words are my diary, screaming out loud
And I know that you'll use them, however you want to
But you can't jump the track, we're like cars on a cable,
And life's like an hourglass, glued to the table
No one can find the rewind button now
Sing it if you understand.
and breathe, just breathe
*(there is no real spelling for that word, right?)
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
And Doug takes the cake, again.
Sometimes I wonder why Doug wasn't born my older brother, instead of my younger one.
A few days ago, my boyfriend broke up with me. I wish I could say it was "out of the blue" and I was "completely shocked," but neither of those are true. It was actually pretty expected, and as much as I want to hate him, I can't (go figure. How many people say that. Now I know what they mean). So anyways, I'm basically pouting (aka, "mourning what could have been and won't be"), and I texted my brother to let him know. Don't get me wrong, I love phone conversations, but I also wasn't too keen on my brother seeing/hearing me break down completely, so I decided a text message would suffice. Upon hearing the news, he said, "It's ok. These things come and go." To which I replied, "Wish it would have stayed longer, before it went." Doug replies, "I'm sensing a life lesson, here." Hmm...smartass! Or so I thought. So, to test his knowledge, I said, "Which is?" (probably more snarkily than I had intended it). And then, he goes on to say the following:
And then, just then, I wished for a moment that my younger brother were in fact my older brother. Not solely to propagate age-related stereotypes, nor "older siblings are wiser" stereotypes (though for the most part, it's true ;) ) but solely for the fact that, to give such sound, content advice seems like something that should be coming from an authority figure, an elder if you will, and that my 16 year old brother, however great, seemed slightly out of place giving it.
But not really.
If you think about it, though I may be more "independent," "intelligent," "social," "academically-oriented," (the list goes on, all according to my parents, btw, not me...) than my brother, the truth is, that kid possesses a wisdom beyond his years. And, it's not because of the amount of books he's read, or because the number of years he's spent on his own, dealing with life... Rather, it's sort of this innate ability he has to internalize people's feelings, emotions, and so on, and come out with a worldview that is, while possibly inexperienced, completely moving and beautiful beyond belief. I don't know how he does it, but he continues to inspire me and give me hope that there are more people in the world like him. He may call himself negative, even cynical, but he remains a positive force in my life, inspiring to do more, be more, see more, and achieve more.
I guess, as "amazing" as I am (haven't I heard that enough in the past few days/weeks/month), I will never consider myself as cool or pure-hearted as that kid. Maybe it's just the whole, blinded by the reflection in the mirror syndrome, but that kid's got so much going for him, and I can't wait to see him fly.
<3
Thanks, Doug.
"We are at the crossroads of destiny, and I am forever with you."
A few days ago, my boyfriend broke up with me. I wish I could say it was "out of the blue" and I was "completely shocked," but neither of those are true. It was actually pretty expected, and as much as I want to hate him, I can't (go figure. How many people say that. Now I know what they mean). So anyways, I'm basically pouting (aka, "mourning what could have been and won't be"), and I texted my brother to let him know. Don't get me wrong, I love phone conversations, but I also wasn't too keen on my brother seeing/hearing me break down completely, so I decided a text message would suffice. Upon hearing the news, he said, "It's ok. These things come and go." To which I replied, "Wish it would have stayed longer, before it went." Doug replies, "I'm sensing a life lesson, here." Hmm...smartass! Or so I thought. So, to test his knowledge, I said, "Which is?" (probably more snarkily than I had intended it). And then, he goes on to say the following:
Oh, something on enjoying everything for what its worth, never squander a moment, always a silver lining, hindsight is worth more than gold. Some afterschool special bull. :-)
And then, just then, I wished for a moment that my younger brother were in fact my older brother. Not solely to propagate age-related stereotypes, nor "older siblings are wiser" stereotypes (though for the most part, it's true ;) ) but solely for the fact that, to give such sound, content advice seems like something that should be coming from an authority figure, an elder if you will, and that my 16 year old brother, however great, seemed slightly out of place giving it.
But not really.
If you think about it, though I may be more "independent," "intelligent," "social," "academically-oriented," (the list goes on, all according to my parents, btw, not me...) than my brother, the truth is, that kid possesses a wisdom beyond his years. And, it's not because of the amount of books he's read, or because the number of years he's spent on his own, dealing with life... Rather, it's sort of this innate ability he has to internalize people's feelings, emotions, and so on, and come out with a worldview that is, while possibly inexperienced, completely moving and beautiful beyond belief. I don't know how he does it, but he continues to inspire me and give me hope that there are more people in the world like him. He may call himself negative, even cynical, but he remains a positive force in my life, inspiring to do more, be more, see more, and achieve more.
I guess, as "amazing" as I am (haven't I heard that enough in the past few days/weeks/month), I will never consider myself as cool or pure-hearted as that kid. Maybe it's just the whole, blinded by the reflection in the mirror syndrome, but that kid's got so much going for him, and I can't wait to see him fly.
<3
Thanks, Doug.
"We are at the crossroads of destiny, and I am forever with you."
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