Painted Love

As a child I had this very tainted view of what love is. My parents were constantly in survival mode. They had 3 kids, and most days the question was if we were going to have cereal for dinner, again, or if we should save it for the morning. There were nights in cars, shady motels, and nights where people took us in. When the could, in their own ways, they showed us love. Perhaps not in the traditional ways that other parents can show love. They tried, as an adult I see that, as a child it was hard. It was difficult in the days of uncertainty of where we would be sleeping next, or the nights of yelling, or the nights in which we were all just scared. Love to me has been more like survival than it has been anything else. Along the road there were people that loved us, loved our family in ways that my words would never do justice. I wouldn’t find out till I was an adult, just how much these people in my life when I was a child, loved my family. I sat in a country home an hour outside of New York City, listening intently as stories of my past were revealed to me by a woman and her husband, who decided at some point, despite all they were going through, to take our family and love us. I remember being taken to lunch by a woman I still affectionately call my “grandma”, a woman who has loved me since she met me, when I was just an infant. A woman who opened her house to our family when we needed a place to stay, and never asked for anything in return.

As an adult I feel as though my understanding of love is very real, and raw. My husband has taught me more about love than I ever imagined possible. Most newly weds start off marriage in this awkward, stumbling kind of way. There are plans, a new house to get used too, there are thank you notes and tiny arguments that pop up, all part of that newly wed experience.  My husband and I didn’t have that. We were married, we went on a honeymoon, we came back and I almost died. Looking back on it I don’t know if I ever realized how severe what I went through was. A day after we got back from our honeymoon circumstances would unravel that eventually leave my husband and I in an emergency room with a doctor telling us that my blood had turned acidic and that at any moment I could slip into a diabetic coma, or worse. Prior to this, I didn’t know I was a diabetic. It seemed to be unfair. We were newly weds, and now in this moment I had to worry about what if I didn’t make it? And what about my husband? My new, wonderful, loving, caring husband.

We worked for survival. We made it through that night. We made it through several more. My husband worked endlessly so that he could provide, because I was barely able to get out of bed on most days. He never complained, we never had an argument, we were in survival, and that is when love is the most pure. When every thing small and insignificant  is tossed aside, because there are so many more important things to worry about. When you really and truly understand that a life with out someone is unbearable and tragic, is when love surfaces in the most profound of ways. My husband and I, five years later love each other, knowing that our lives are fragile, that each day is truly a beautiful and spectacular gift we have on this earth. We decided, through survival to love one another in millions of ways. We sing to each other daily, dance, we say I love you more times than we can count, we learned early on that no day can be taken for granted. In the short time we’ve been married we’ve gone through a lot, but each day we sing. Each day we dance, each day we say “I love you”. The small stuff is too small to get in the way of love. Love should be shouted and painted and sung about. Love should be what at the end of the day, remains. What else is there? Often I see people, who get caught up in the daily stress of life, who complain and mourn their life circumstances, and while they might have valid concerns, I ache for them. I ache for them because all of that energy into the realization of all that is going wrong, can be focused and realized into a single act of love. Today, go and love someone. Love someone that you have not before, love someone that you have loved all your life. Life is a series of circumstances mixed with profound timing, to let in people, for you to love.

In progress

There is a path that stretched beyond our suburban town home. A seemingly boring path that was usually traveled by dog walkers and the occasional mom with a stroller. I could only see part of the path from our living room window, and never thought much about traveling down it. One day, while going through a particularly rough patch of depression, I decided to go walk and take the camera. To my delight I came upon a meadow of daisy’s, but what inspired me that day was the sign that announced them. “Wild flower meadow in progress.” That little sign in the meadow of flowers gave me a tremendous amount of hope in that moment. Despite all that I thought was going wrong in my life, I realized that I was just like that meadow, wild and in progress. And just like that meadow, I was something beautiful, even when still in progress. Every time I need to be reminded that life is beautiful, I stare at that picture and remember that I’m “in progress” and that above all, to be wild is to be beautiful.

Flying colors…

Over at shutter sisters the theme of the day is “just shoot it”. I took this photo as a complete accident. It wasn’t until I uploaded it that I noticed the girl flying through the air. I loved this little girls sense of style. Her ability to put every color imaginable into one outfit, down to the orange crocks made me want to run out and find more color for my wardrobe. I wish I had this kind of bravery as an adult, the kind of bravery that picks from the closet the most colorful, rather than the safest. The kind of bravery that says “I’m going to go run and jump through that hula hoop. The kind of bravery that chooses things based on what will make me happy, rather than what others deem acceptable. What if we were to just do what we thought best at the moment, and forget what anyone else might think? What colors would you wear today?

Behind the eye lids

Our dreams lay just beyond our eye lids.  Eyes wide shut, dreaming, imagining, hoping, planning. Closing your eyes opens a world that is unknown to the rest of the world. Closing your eyes means all is possible. All behind the eye lids we find our biggest dreams and our wildest imagination.

Love Thursday

I’ve struggled today with finding something to post for “Love Thursday”. But then, I came across this photo of our friends and their little girl. The concept of family for me has always been hard to grasp. It’s not for lack of trying, I have desperately tried to understand and make it all work, in this magical – getting together on Sunday afternoons and playing board games sort of way. On my side of the family, we’re dysfunctional, almost in a sitcom sort of way. My parents are now divorced, this does not upset me at all, in fact dare I say, I had been hoping for that outcome for a really long time… I know it sounds awful, but if you knew them together, you would understand. My brothers, who I love dearly are both very far away, one who is leaving to go back to the mid-east in 4 days and I won’t see him for another 8 months. The other who is a great little brother, is in college, pretty far from us. My husbands side of the family lives in the mid west mainly, and his parents are in Malaysia. There is a brother and sister in law that are close by  and they have a son and a baby on the way, but often it is hard to match up our lives, especially between one family who is living in a condo with no kids, and no desire anytime soon, and the suburban family with the kid and the play times and nap times, and well you get the idea.

This past year was one of, if not the hardest year I’ve ever had to go through. And that’s saying a lot, I’ve been through a lot of bad years. It is one that I wish I did not have to go through, but in the end I found out something very important. Family, are not necessarily the people who share your name, or your DNA, family are simply the people who are willing to travel down the path with you.. Be it for a few moments or for a lifetime. There have been people in my life since I was a little girl who held my hand to walk down unknown territory, simply because they loved me and cherished me. This year, while there were moments of tremendous loneliness, there were a few who reached out and offered their hand, and walked down the unknown paths with me. And so today, after feeling a bit sad that we don’t have much family around I am reminded of the few who I have invited to walk beside me, who are also my family, my dear, cherished and lovely family.

The boys

Over at shutter sisters they asked for pictures of boys. And while the previous post was also of a boy, I though I’d post one of my favorite boy photos. I love photos that say so much about the moment. Looking through some of the photos in the comment for Shutter Sisters, I was immediately struck by how much a photo says. People I’ve not met, with captured glimpses of their lives, that tell so much.

These boys in this photo include my husband, his brother and our nephew. It captured this moment of joy that I just love. A first for my nephew, as he had never been on a boat before… And 2 grown up guys having just as much fun.

I grew up with 2 younger brother.. and it continually amazed me just how much they could get into. Things that I would never think possible, were simple and not thought much of at all. My husband and his brother have similiar stories, one that would make any mother cringe. My nephew is still young, and fairly innocent. I look forward to the day with some hesitancy when my sister in law calls with stories of daring adventures, and probably a few stitches.

Textures and holding on.

She grasped onto my finger, barely covering my fingernail. I could not get over how fragile this little one was. Born weighing under 5 pounds, she amazed me with how strong her grip around my finger was. Each time I go and visit with this little one, I am reminded about the power of our strength.  The will to survive and be strong, is so much greater than we ever admit. What if we were to grasp onto our dreams in such a way as this little one, and not let go.