Disclaimer: This post has not been edited by my editorial team. This post does not deal with life in Japan. This post has no pictures. This post took courage to post, but I hope it makes you smile or think about all of the love you have in your life. Happy Valentine’s Day!
Maybe I’ve watched one too many episodes of “Call the Midwife”, in which Vanessa Redgrave begins and ends each episode narrating the period drama that’s topic typically deals with love in one form or another. In any case love has been on my mind. So here is my love letter to all of you who teach me each day what love is and can be.
Love is discovering that blood runs deep and a babies face can draw me in, can warm my heart, and make me feel a new kind of love.
Love is a friend who doesn’t just come to my rescue on a Sunday afternoon to listen and comfort, but who questions my comments and pushes me in her own subtle way to find what I mean and search for what I do not know.
Love is seeing Minnesota across a young Japanese boys chest. Knowing he has no idea what it says, but saying it all for me.
Love is the classroom, office, or library door that is always open, ready to hear some new rant or offer an ear, an idea, a hug, or a laugh.
Love is parents who show what love, respect, and communication look like after 38 years.
Love is remembering it is all about the kids, being reminded of that, and moving forward and working past the stressors each day.
Love is a couple who clearly love each other and show love to others despite the cards dealt them in the last year and a half.
Love is a small package or card that comes in the mail. Offering nothing but support and love from miles away.
Love is three teenage boys and their parents who I don’t have to see or talk to for months, but will take time for me. Drive to see me and always make me feel welcome in their home.
Love is cousins and aunts and uncles who welcome me home with open arms, making me feel loved, missed, and so very special.
Love is learning to let go when it hurts the most. Making my heart feel what my brain knows to be true.
Love is knowing that sometimes life may be difficult and painful, but the outcome from each trial will have its own rewards.
Love is sitting with myself and accepting myself, flaws in all. Finding peace with the knowledge that I may always be single, but finding hope in the insight that if “that kind of love” ever does come my way all of you have taught me what love looks like and what I deserve.
And like Redgrave narrates at the end of the second season I too feel I am at a place in my life where “. . .I ached with love. And. . .my soul went questing.”