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Parents Ending Prohibition . . . because there are better ways to protect kids ! |
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"Real love is believing in others until they believe in themselves." ~ Barbara Rother |
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Happy Valentine's Day, 2005! A few people have asked me what the word "agape" means. The standard dictionary definition is "love," or "love feast," in reference to the Last Supper. To me, that explanation seems too small for such a generous concept. Have you ever been touched by witnessing the perfect bliss of two toddlers, faces shining, embracing and saying, "I love you," for no reason, other than their feelings for one another in that moment? |
Picture the look on the face of a new mom, in those first precious moments after she, herself, has just brought a new life into the room, and she snuggles her wee one against the other side of her skin for the first time. Imagine watching as that sweet combination of mom, dad and miracle, nestles in and roots, until finding the unknown, yet familiar treasure in this trusted angel's breast. |
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Charles Thomas, executive director of Unitarian Universalists for Drug Policy Reform, enjoys life with his wife, Amy, and new baby, Grace (10/30/04). |
These examples begin to explain, but trying to define "agape," is akin to trying to catch mercury in our bare hands. No matter how close we come, it will ultimately slip beyond us and elude capture. It's the vision of humanitarians, the passion of prophets, and the puzzles of poets. Every once in awhile, when this energy is redirected into actions, we're blessed to glimpse this beautiful ideal. Stories abound of the extraordinarily ordinary human beings who manage to surpass every known human limitation, out of their love for another. Just think of the tales of parents finding the strength to lift cars off of trapped children, or the husband who somehow knows, absent of any reasonable explanation, that his wife is in trouble and goes to her aid. Then there's the far less extraordinary, but nonetheless noteworthy, examples. It's the mom who becomes concerned when her ailing son isn't eating her fabulous, home-cooked Thanksgiving dinner, and asks him why. When he tells her his illness has left him severely nauseous and without an appetite, but that there's a remedy which eases these symptoms, where no other medication has worked, she sets out to find her fully grown baby boy the medicine he needs. She doesn't question the fact that his medicine is marijuana, nor debate whether she should help him because it's illegal -- she thinks only of meeting the needs of her child and acts. Agape is the tenderness and the compassion in the eyes of a man as he tries to ease the suffering of his dying partner, friend, lover, soulmate -- knowing this is the last gift he can give before their time together ends. And it's evidenced again after the final breath is drawn in the solemn, wistful kiss of farewell. These gifts from the heart are given so freely and easily that they're often overlooked. Caught up in our own daily dramas, sometimes our focus becomes scattered. When this happens, it's easy to forget to show those closest to us how much we truly appreciate the gift they are. In my own life, I speak frequently about living with a chronic illness and of my kids. Seldom do I remember to give credit to my husband for the toll this takes on him, however. For this Valentine's Day, I've spent weeks trying to figure out what I could give Bill that would start to express the depth of my love for this wonderful man. Instead of sharing my feelings with him privately, I decided to bring part of my love letter here and share with all of you a little of why I feel so blessed. Bill has stood by me through better, worse and everything in-between. He's been a loving and gentle partner, holding my hair back when I throw up, rubbing my back when the pain becomes overwhelming, and holding me while I cry. The days of work he's had to miss have almost always been because of my illnesses, and he's gone to work when he, himself, had a high fever and could barely stand. In addition, he's been my caregiver in other ways, driving sometimes for hours to find me a gram or two of medical marijuana -- just enough to let me eat one more meal. |
He's been the most thoughtful and generous father to our children, for which any child could ask. I love to watch him wrestling with our kids like the boy in the famous Pepsi commercial, with puppies all over him. Their squeals of glee and the purest joy imaginable are like a symphony! He's been their comfort and companion, as well as their playmate during better times. When our second oldest had croup, I remember Bill holding him and walking him around the house, hour after hour through the night, singing to him and gently stroking his little head. |
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Again, I find myself at a loss for words to adequately describe all that Bill means to me. But the foundation for understanding "agape" that Fr. Mark began teaching me, has been built upon by my husband and kids. It's not the goal or destination, rather it can be found only in the journey. To understand, we need only look within and around at the people in our lives. Every one of us is a living example of this pure and perfect love. Finding this light is as simple as focusing on finding it in each other. Simply put, agape is the miracle of love, and I believe Albert Einstein said this best: "There are only two ways to live your life. One way is as if nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle." Love, Erin |
Bill and Julie sharing a moment of bliss. |
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