How often do we think about how much we are loved? I mean really think about it? Recently, I’ve had occasion to give that word – love – a lot of thought, and I’ve learned a great deal in the process.
First, what is love, really? We all think about that romantic kind. Some of us will experience that love. Some of us will not. And, is there a difference between love and caring? I don’t think there is. We may call these feelings by different names, but their genesis is the same.
The most fortunate of us will feel love from our family. Husband, wife, mother, father, children, grands – all of our progeny. Sisters, brothers, aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents … I could go on and on. Love from family can be troubled, but one hopes that those troubles dissipate.
Pets figure into this picture. Do we have dogs, cats, hamsters, ferrets, parrots, parakeets – again, I could go on and on. I suppose that snakes, tortoises, iguanas and other reptiles, goldfish, etc., may not fall into this picture of love, but some people may feel a sense of love toward them. Kids in 4-H probably love their farm animals. They care for their bunnies, their horses, cows, and chickens with a profound sense of love.
We have our community of people in which we live. I know of no faith where “love they neighbor” does not stand as one of the tenants of the faith. I live in what I consider the best community of neighbors on earth. Neighbors who share of their time and efforts to remove snow from my sidewalks and driveway. Who willing take care of the lawn and the inside of my house. Who repair my house wherever and whenever needed. Drive for me when I cannot drive at night. Take me to the hospital if necessary. I often wonder what I give back to them – but, that’s a subject for another time. Do we have medical personnel who care for us with their expertise, sharing of themselves each time we see them? Is that attention to our health an expression of love? For me, it is.
In my world, live two students (middle school and elementary) who, along with their parents, share of their time and energy to make my life better. I am privileged to care for a couple of dogs when their parents leave town. Years ago, Larry built a dog run for our dogs. This helps confine the product of these dogs, so you know that requires a periodic clean up. These two young people are quick to perform “poop patrol*” when asked. And, I thank them for that because with the rock that covers that area, my vision keeps me from finding what is there.
A new vision of love came home to me, this past week. I belong to an organization for which I am privileged to be the secretary. Because I receive information from the parent organization, I often have things to discuss during the business meeting. So, I make a list to prevent the forgetting of those items, and today’s list included, “Parliamentarian for the CSPERA Board and Forum.” (CSPERA being the parent/state organization of our group.) You may remember that I have AFIB events; on this particular meeting day, I was not able to attend because I was having one of those events. Another member took on the responsibility of being the minute taker for me. When she brought those minutes to my house after the meeting, she had something to tell me. It appears that the members of our group, upon hearing that I had agreed to be the parliamentarian for the state group, responded with a resounding “NO!” that I should not – definitely should not – assume that responsibility. My secretary “pro-tem” for the day was kind when she delivered this news, and was adamant about it. Later in the day, another member called with the same adamant “order.” I was not to consider taking on another job because my health might be affected by this additional responsibility. I promised that I would let the CEO know that I would not be able to be the parliamentarian; I immediately wrote her an e-mail with that information.
I tell you all of this because I became aware that this organization’s members – en masse – cared enough for me to caution me from doing something that might cause me harm. That, I think, is a kind of love, and I thank them for it.
Be Safe and Be Well
The Cranky Crone
Thoughtful comments are always appreciated.
*A note: “poop patrol” is a term that the girl who performs this much needed task named the job!
Another note: by Wednesday of the same week, I was in the hospital because of the AFIB.