For all the Love

I couldn't sleep and finally got up and went to the bathroom. I picked up the nearby Reader's Digest and opened it randomly. The article was Steve Martin writing his memoir's concerning his father's death. I skimmed the text, unprepared for the way my heartstings would be tugged.


His dad: “I wish I could cry, I wish I could cry.”

At first, I took this as a comment on his condition but am forever
thankful that I pushed on. “What do you want to cry about?” I finally said.

“For all the love I received and couldn’t return.”

My heart opened. My eyes teared and flowed over. I started sobbing. I don't know if I was relating these feelings to my dad or to myself.

Most of my life I would have projected the sentiment onto my dad. In recent years I realized I didn't interpret his extensions of love and caring as that. Now I think I was closed to receiving. I preferred to feel alone and unloved. In that sense I didn't receive the loved given and therefore I didn't return it either.

This isn't about beating myself up. I am simply noticing how far I have traveled in my personal journey. It is no longer true about me. I do now let the love in. I do return that love. I even initiate the flow of love.

This realization was the result of that flood of tears. I feel cleansed and refreshed. I am grateful to have grown in this way before the end of my life so I have time to feel loved and give love all the more. Yes, why do I love my life so much?

My sleep was deep and peaceful.