After Grandma Shafer's death in 1992, the family gathered in Greencastle, Pennsylvania to clear out her house and prepare for an auction. Grandma had been the heart of our family and her house a warm, gathering place, so the air on this day was thick with grief. Everyone worked cooperatively, efficiently, quietly. There was a general understanding that each of us could reclaim gifts (s)he had given to Grandma, and--even as boxes were filled--small piles of these items were built throughout the house. I wandered from room to room, looking especially hard in the hutch, and found nothing I had given to Grandma. Nothing! I had loved her for eighteen years, and it was as though I had never given her a thing. My heart felt like a broken, concrete block in my chest.
Then I heard my name called from a back bedroom. There, in a cedar chest, someone had found a stack of letters I had written to Grandma. It was a thick stack tied together with satin ribbon: tens of letters written over the seven years since my parents had relocated our family to Tennessee. The rush of relief I experienced in that moment nearly drove me to my knees. Here was proof: Grandma knew that I loved her.
When there is no more opportunity for words, the question that will drive you crazy is less likely to be: Did (s)he love me?, than: Did (s)he know that I loved him or her? So it was a precious gift when T.L.--in his calm wisdom--acknowledged my love for him.
I encourage you, as you move through life, to say not only the deeply precious words: "I love you," but also: "I know you love me." On this earth, we must each be separated from the other, and--when those days come--what comfort it is to know that love was more than felt...that it was both expressed and realized!
Interesting post. Captures something that occurred just last week; having a moment with my loved one, sitting close together, I felt that exact emotion. Different than an offering, it was an acceptance. I looked up at him and said, "You love me."
ReplyDeleteThis acknowledgment, in that moment, was as powerful as the "I love you"'s I frequently toss his direction. Moreso, maybe. There's some vulnerability and great hope in knowing that you're loved. And saying so.
Beautiful post. Made me think (obviously). Love your writing.
Love is such a mystery. I have taken it for granted so many times, but--when I try to examine it--I become both overwhelmed and confused.
ReplyDeleteI want to draw a picture of it, but I don't know how.
Person A loves Person B. A is blessed in loving B. B is blessed in being loved by A. A is blessed in knowing that B recognizes A's love. B is blessed in knowing that A knows that B recognizes A's love.
That's where I start to get confused, and that's nothing. That's scratching a surface somewhere because it doesn't even consider B's love for A. Or how People C, D, E, etc. might be affected.
It's like throwing a stone into water and seeing the circles around it grow bigger and bigger and further, all the time, from the entry point.
Loved reading this! Glad you mentioned it:) I'm having to come to my daughter's computer to comment right now because of an update we did on the family computer, so I'm delayed in actually communicating. Adore the satin ribbon around your letters. May have to upgrade my rubber band! You're right, it does communicate Love.
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