The angry, hateful rhetoric being slung around like a bunch of schoolyard bullies continues to dismay me. And it makes me wonder...where are the hippies? Where are the pacifists, the tree huggers, the flower children? I want them back. I want them to protest. I want them to stand up and say, "No...we won't take this!" I want them to put flowers into the weapons that are destroying us!
No, that isn't a typo. I said "outlove", not outlive. To borrow an idea from my pastor's sermon last Sunday, I'm going to run with this one.
"Love your neighbor as yourself."
Luke 10:27
We are called to love one another...as we love ourselves. If this is true, there must be many who do not think very highly of themselves because there's a lot of hatred and anger in the world. There's a lot of name calling, people bashing, racism, bigotry, intolerance. That can only come from a lack of love.
(For those who may have missed the New York Times article, I am printing it here. Some people have said they cannot access it without buying a subscription to the paper.)
YOUR MONEY
Financial Guidance for Widows Struggling Through Grief’s Fog
By KERRY HANNON FEB. 19, 2016
“My husband and I had decided life was too short,” recalled Ginny McKinney, “so we went shopping to buy a travel trailer to take us into an early retirement.” That was three years ago.
As a follow-up to yesterday's question, what was the very BEST advice or remark you received in the days-weeks-months after losing your loved one? What was most helpful, most touching, most understanding?
I'm writing an article on the best and worst things to say to someone who is grieving and you can help me by sharing what helped you the most.
We've all heard it. Those remarks that absolutely cut you to the quick. Things you can't believe a thinking, feeling human being could possibly think would be helpful. Things that, if you weren't in such a fog to realize how awful they were, you just might strike someone a blow to their forehead and scream, "Get away from me with that!"
I was always a little weird. Never picked for first string on any team. Never felt totally comfortable in my skin. My nose was too big or I was too loud. I didn't come from money and I had no self esteem. Few people really "got me" but those that did were my strongest and loudest proponents.
As I walked the path of "wife", I was not always in the most nurturing environment. I questioned myself and my abilities. I measured my self worth through the opinions of others. I was so afraid. My deep seated fear of abandonment kept me in situations long after they became unhealthy. I was a withering vine. I felt weirder than ever. Why wasn't I like the other wives? It was crazy making.
The late author, David Foster Wallace, said "In reality, there is no such thing as not voting: You either vote by voting, or you vote by staying home and tacitly doubling the value of some diehard's vote." Each passing generation gets further and further away from the days of the suffragette. They struggled for the right to vote, often being beaten and thrown in jail.
This election is critically important. Whatever you do, get out and vote!
I came across a darling story on FB yesterday. You may have seen it. Norma is almost 91. She lost her beloved Leo and during the two week period he was dying, Norma was diagnosed with a large mass in her uterus which was most likely cancerous. Her son and daughter-in-law sat down and had a long talk with Norma prior to her doctor visit to hear the final diagnosis. They explained what the likely scenarios might look like and asked her what she wanted to do. They gave Norma options. She could have the surgery and treatment. She could go into assisted living to while away her last month's on earth. Or, she was welcome to pack a bag, hop on board the RV they lived in full time, and spend as much quality time as she could traveling along with them. Her family told her they would drive her anyplace she wanted to go.
I have the luxury, at least for the time being, of sitting down with my coffee every morning and reading your responses to my posts. There have become a number of familiar names who respond regularly. I haven't met the vast majority of you. I don't know all of your stories though I am honored when you share your hearts with me, as I share mine with you.
I follow an author on Twitter that had a list of descriptive words for feelings. I came across saudade. Three syllables. Soh-DAH-deh. It's from Portuguese Folklore meaning an intensely strong yearning for someone who is no longer with you. Saudade. I've never found a more accurate word to describe what goes on in my heart some days. It even sounds appropriate.