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Posts Tagged ‘DungeonPrompts’

*  Dungeon Prompts — Season 2, Week 12:  “What Does Love Look Like?”

 

Love is making someone’s face light up—to give them what makes them happy no matter who it is. Love is a child who plucks a dandelion from the yard to give to his mom. To see Mom’s face become so electrified as if she has received all of the treasures in the world. Love is romance, young and fresh experiences. Love is all of this and so much more.

 

Love is answering the phone at 3 am to hear a friend cry her eyes out one more time. Love is standing so someone may have a seat. Love is seeing a person walking down the street and offering him a ride. It is willingness to help someone when they are in need. It is doing things for a neighbor and never saying anything about it—she may never know or acknowledge and she may talk bad of you. Love is stopping in busy traffic to pull an old man out of a ditch who has fallen off his lawn tractor, checking to see if he is ok—and worrying about his well-being later on. It is observing a child as she is fascinated with a small pill bug. It is watching the wonder in her eyes.

 

Love is this and more. Love is giving to others and asking for nothing in return. It is not only a feeling but a state of consciousness…a state of being. It is commitment to oneself and to one another. And, it is never selfish.

 

Love is sacrifice and willingness to share even when the pantry is almost empty. Love is a mother who gives up her food so her child will thrive. Love is taking care of a family member and giving until it hurts. It is when her husband comes home to relieve her so she might get a few hours of sleep. Love is risking everything so family will be safe.

 

Love is asking a friend to drive her to see her daughter because the daughter has been rushed to the emergency room. And, love is no hesitation in answering or doing so. Love is being taken advantage of, hurt beyond belief, and then trying to save that friendship never pointing out what happened. Love is willingness to be a sacrifice, to stand up and let people mock and hurt…and not to retaliate—to continue to show love the best she can.

 

Love is seeing someone, to smile at them—even beaming brightly—hugging the person so tightly I don’t want to let go. Love is that spark in the hug you feel when you truly connect—truly hug. Love is the willingness to step in the shoes of others and walk—to see from their eyes. Love is making no judgment, no assessment that divides. Love is seeing us all the same and willing to risk reputation so others can see, too. Love is willingness to stand in the gap even if it means she loses everything.

 

Love is letting go of the husband she dearly loved for so long so he can be free to lead his life and be a father to the child he brought into the world without her. Conversely, love is a man who cares for his wife after 50 years of marriage, combs her hair, feeds her, tending to her every need without registering a complaint—wanting to do more.  (Deep breath.)

 

Love… (smile) Love is reassuring someone that you are there for them when they receive bad news. It is giving a smile to someone waiting in the doctor’s office, or in the checkout line, and to the person who just cut me off in traffic. It is restraint—holding back and not saying things that will hurt the other or to polarize one another more than I have already. Love is refusal to argue when there is nothing to debate. It is looking deep within myself and asking what prejudices I have that prevent me from accepting someone…and overcoming these obstacles. Love is giving a hand and not asking for it back.

 

This is how love looks to me–the true face of love. It is not so much passion as it is respect and commitment. Love has many faces but love is peace. Many of us chase what we think is love most of our lives taking a glimpse back every so often to see how close we come. Love…it’s a gift and it is giving…forgetting ourselves for one another. Love is grace. 🙂

 

Video from part 1 but from youtube. I love it! I LOVE IT! 😀 

😀

Thanks, Sreejit! (link) 😀

Blessings to all… 🙂

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*  Dungeon Prompts — Season 2, Week 12:  “What Does Love Look Like?”

 

This is LOVE 😀  (watch their expressions):

 

😀

This is what love means to me—pure and simple. And…a heart that allows one to cry at this video. 😉

 

I had the blog post ready to go and then discovered this video that I believe explains it all however the words are in part 2 (link).

 

Thanks to Sreejit for this prompt. Visit him at his blog (link) to read more blog posts on this subject and more of his talents.

I discovered this video through Shelly. Visit her at her blog (link). She is a member of Rest Ministries/Hope Keepers for the Chronically Ill (link) and writes wonderful devotions.

 

Blessings to all… 🙂

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Death—it surrounded me when I was 3, tried to grab hold when I was 11, held hands at 16, wrapped its arms around me at 19 but death took a piece of my soul at 21.

 Dungeon Prompts (Season 2, week 8):  When did death become real for you? 

 

When I was three, I didn’t say goodbye to my grandmother at the hospital before her death. My great aunt tried to sneak me in—I wouldn’t go. I didn’t see her body afterwards and was not allowed to attend the funeral. I knew she was sick but where did she go? I was told, “to heaven,” but where is heaven?

 

At eleven, I met a boy a little older than me. I was being diagnosed with my AVM and he was being treated for a malignant brain tumor. I didn’t know the severity of it and I sure didn’t understand mine. He later died and I carry a piece of him with me to this day. I didn’t know death then but this is part of the ribbon that binds us all together.

 

Peach. It was the color I liked. It reminded me of her. I remember it like yesterday. Caskets are elaborate boxes that I would love to nap in if they were not for the “ever after.” They look so comfortable. I picked out the first one when I was 16. My great aunt had just died. She was my best friend and filled in the role of grandmother. Never having children of her own or marrying, I spent much of my childhood with her. I expected her to die one day—it was the natural order of things. She was old…she was 84 but it wasn’t easy saying goodbye.

 

Death was getting closer. Death asked me to dance.

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On my dad’s shoulders.

Going to funerals became an activity for the family for a few years. Some relatives I knew, some I had met, and some I had never seen. I got accustomed to the routine of saying goodbye, shedding tears, and packing those memories up in a box to put aside. That was how I dealt with death. I didn’t know how to grieve—to go through the motions and the stages of recovery. You see, we never get over death—not if we really care for someone. We only learn to deal with our feelings of loss. We learn how to prevent it from hurting us so deeply. The pain is always there but we usually learn how to cover it up and disguise it. I didn’t have a clue of what death was when I was 16. I pretended to know.

 

A distant cousin flirted with death all of his life. My grandmother that died when I was 3 … he took her car and fixed it up but then one night he was drag racing and drove into a tree. I was small—young. He was messed up and I wondered if he would live. Memories haunt me from that night. One, I remember his blood. It seemed to be everywhere. The racing did not stop and neither did the wrecking. He went through a few cars and always promised he would never do it again but he was thrilled with speed and he loved to race. He loved other things, but racing was his downfall.

 

I was at college when my parents called to tell me he passed away. I was 19. It was a wreck he wouldn’t survive. It took the life of a young mother, too. He had been my mentor, my hero, and my protector–the big brother I never had. Death quit dancing with me and became a part of me at 19. The innocence was gone. I never forgot that night he almost died so many years before and after this, I never looked at things the same again. I had talked with my cousin not long before he died. He sought me out yet he was much older. He said that he wanted to patch up his marriage and go into the ministry. He wanted to make things right. I didn’t know why he would talk to me about such private matters. I was a kid but I was also the innocence of life. Sometimes we want to see the past in order to find our future.

 

I wish I could say death and I parted ways for a while but my life was forever changed at 21 when my dad died of cancer. He was my biggest fan. He loved me … called me ‘Monkey’… I don’t know. He would do anything for me if I needed it. He almost died of a heart attack when I was diagnosed with the AVM. He didn’t want this for me. He wanted life to be better. I loved him so much.

 

He taught me most of what I know from roofing a house to planting a garden to so many things. He taught me to think for myself and to not take ‘no’ for an answer. The closeness between us caused death to take part of me—part of my soul. I never allowed myself to grieve. I had to be strong for my mom and to show others that I wasn’t weak. I could not understand how my dad could be taken away at such a young age. I thought he was invincible. I believed he would be healed but it doesn’t matter what we want to happen. Sometimes things are going to happen no matter what. Death became real that night I answered the phone from the hospital. Life stopped for me in some ways and never returned. I carry that pain with me. It goes deep, very deep. I wasn’t prepared for my dad to die.

 

Death did not stop there, of course. I have said goodbye and had to bury all of my family except my girls. It hurts. I learned how to grieve finally … a little late but I learned. When my mom passed away, the tears wouldn’t stop. I couldn’t cry for my dad until she died. I kept family at a distance–scared that the next person close to me would die. I wanted to protect everyone I knew. Later, my mom’s mom died here in the house when the girls were little. I was her caregiver just like I was for my mom. I hope the girls don’t have bad memories later or that they cannot grieve. I worry about that—a lot.

 

Oh dear, sometimes we know someone who dies and we ask ourselves how it was them and not us. There have been other deaths—a lot of them along the way—but there is one that touched my heart and my family—my youngest daughter’s best friend’s mother, “Mom Number 2.” The girls had been friends for much of their school years. They were a lot alike—more tomboyish than girly. Both were in high school when the best friend’s mom had an aneurysm burst. She was medevac’d to a place that could safely remove it but it turned out she had two of the dang things. Everything seemed to go OK but then she took a turn. No one ever dreamed this could happen. I always thought she might need to care for my girls if/when I died. She wasn’t supposed to die but infection set in and she passed away. I still can’t believe it. That was six years ago this month. I have watched my daughter deal with grief while remembering my own inadequacies. We talk about feelings and loss … and memories. I hope it will help as well as her participating in some rituals with her friend each year.

 

Finally … When I was young, I remember seeing a TV movie called, “Death Takes a Holiday” (not the 1934 version). My mom was watching it and for some reason, it intrigued me. It’s been an awful long time but the movie was about ‘death’ becoming human. Death stopped—no one was dying. In this particular family, a certain member was to die but another family member made a deal with death so that he/she (not to give away the ending) could die and spare the one that death came for. A silly notion that we could trade a life … but I sometimes daydream asking myself if it were possible how I would act.

 

I used to dread the possibility of experiencing another death so close—I said I couldn’t take it. I think I would gladly trade my life for another if I was the only one who would be affected. I watched my mother struggle after my dad died. I never wanted to lose my mate to death but I think death is sometimes an easier reality than what happened in my marriage. My mom knew my dad loved her. Sure, they had problems along the way but they loved each other. She could not put her arms around him nor his around her but she knew. In many ways, I have experienced the death of a spouse without going through death—someone I trusted my life with, someone I sacrificed so much for—but no love in return.

 

We have walked closely, Death and I, because of the people I have lost—so many I have known who are gone. No one thought I would live this long so Death and I have walked in the same footsteps at times. I have never feared death for me. I have been afraid of losing those around me but I am learning that we cannot hold on to the ones we love. We have to let go. That’s not easy for me. Death becomes more real to me with each death.

 

So, where is heaven? (small snicker) Heaven is on the other side of death … of course. 🙂

 

* Note:  Thanks to Sreejit for this prompt (dungeon prompts-link). I write about death fairly frequently but this is the first time I have put all of these stories together in one writing. It was extremely cathartic but I can’t stay here in this thought. I find that if I remain too long, I forget the sun rises and sets only to rise again the next morning. 😀

Blessings …

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