I've had a lot of things roll through my mind recently. I've been thinking about old times; old dreams. But today we had a brief thunderstorm, with hail and high winds and rain so hard I couldn't see across the yard.
The weather was a lesson.
The worst part of this sort of thing isn't my own hurt. Its watching someone I love hurt so badly.
I was only a kid when my dad died.
It was 26 years ago. That's a long time to get on with life. I've lived so much more of my life without him than I did with him. It does seem so terrible to have lost so much time, but in a way that's always made it easier for me. I was young enough that I never had time to make those really deep memories.
My husband is 32. That's a lot more years of joy, pain and memories to sort through. And a lot more things to realize that he'll miss.
Of course, its just a guess. As sensitive as I think I am to what's going on in other people's heads, I can't know, all the way, what anyone else feels. Not even the person I know best in the whole world, after myself of course.
Its hard to watch. But that's the downfall of truly loving someone I suppose. That's the real difference between infatuation and love. When you love someone, its part of the deal to hurt even more because they are hurting, than your own pain ever causes.
Its a loop. He loves his father -- watching his father's pain is hurting him. And watching the pain of them both feels a bit like being caught in a thunderstorm without shelter.
There's likely to be damage left behind; branches broken. But eventually, the leaves regrow and the flowers heal.
So do hearts.
The weather was a lesson.
The worst part of this sort of thing isn't my own hurt. Its watching someone I love hurt so badly.
I was only a kid when my dad died.
It was 26 years ago. That's a long time to get on with life. I've lived so much more of my life without him than I did with him. It does seem so terrible to have lost so much time, but in a way that's always made it easier for me. I was young enough that I never had time to make those really deep memories.
My husband is 32. That's a lot more years of joy, pain and memories to sort through. And a lot more things to realize that he'll miss.
Of course, its just a guess. As sensitive as I think I am to what's going on in other people's heads, I can't know, all the way, what anyone else feels. Not even the person I know best in the whole world, after myself of course.
Its hard to watch. But that's the downfall of truly loving someone I suppose. That's the real difference between infatuation and love. When you love someone, its part of the deal to hurt even more because they are hurting, than your own pain ever causes.
Its a loop. He loves his father -- watching his father's pain is hurting him. And watching the pain of them both feels a bit like being caught in a thunderstorm without shelter.
There's likely to be damage left behind; branches broken. But eventually, the leaves regrow and the flowers heal.
So do hearts.
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