The next evening at church services, when Pastor Christopher spoke to me, the tears I’d held back the previous day fell as I told him I’d lost my brother. He said my tears were “liquid love.” Through the years of my life, I’ve shed buckets of liquid love for family members, friends, and beloved pets.
Life, for most of us, is full of gladness and sadness. Those who say they are blessed are the ones who have the most love to give and the heartache that walks hand in hand with love lost. Each of us has to balance the gain against the pain.
Once I said that my two husbands, Jim and Harold, had nothing in common. They were about as unalike as two people can be. Then, a friend pointed out to me that they both loved me so they did have something in common.
I shed liquid love over Jim’s diagnosis and his failing health. Throughout the years of his dementia, I learned that love comes in many shapes and sizes. The people who cared enough to provide support and acts of kindness showed their love in tangible ways. My family and Jim’s family were the wind beneath my wings that kept me from crashing and burning.
As all who have lost a love one knows, the quiet moments are the most unbearable. They are the times of regret and unbridled sorrow. When you don’t have to be strong for anyone else, it is easy to dwell on the future that could have been and compare it to the one that never will be. The wounds are broken open and healing is delayed.
Grief has no timeline. Although twenty years may pass, and other loves come and go, a song, a random memory, or a photo can make a person time travel through the years and a fresh round of grief.
As I’ve grow older, the scars on my heart have accumulated. I’ve been widowed twice, but I refuse to measure life with sorrow. Instead, I will measure my life with blessings. I am blessed to have my family, two extended families, a multitude of friends, and a lovable dog.
My arthritic body makes me appreciate any pain-free days. When I feel like I’ve walked through fire, I gratefully accept the offer of a pool of cold water to soothe the burn.
Liquid love doesn’t have to be tears of sorrow—it can be tears of joy. Each sunrise brings the promise of hope and a dawning of possibilities. When a day has been well spent, sunset will bring a hush of peace and calm.
Copyright ©July 2025 by L. S. Fisher
http://earlyonset.blogspot.com
#ENDALZ
2 comments:
I understand the liquid love. There are times when stories and songs or situations cause remembrances to trigger again the loss all over
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