The sun rises.
The sun sets.
In daylight, in darkness, I simply try to plant one foot in front of the other, taking step after step, never certain where I am heading. All I can do is hope that each step brings me closer to the one I love, rather than taking me that much farther from her door.
The only thing I know is that each step, each day, each moment takes me that much closer to my own end. Whether or not the path of love will intersect with that march toward death I do not know. All I can do is keep taking each step, one at a time, and trust that where I am heading, besides my own demise, will be some small junction with love and, more importantly, the woman I love with all my heart.
I can only hope she will be along my route because my path, like my destination, is hidden from my eyes. In fact, I cannot see but an inch in front of my face in any direction, so I cannot tell if I am walking toward her or away from her. I listen intently for her voice, smell the air for her scent, reach out in a circle around me trying to touch her, but I find nothing. Just emptiness.
From time to time something trips me, I stumble and fall. But I rise each time and, with increasing care, continue to take step after tremulous step, uncertain if I am stepping along a plain or about to walk off a cliff. I can't be sure if my next step will walk me right out of this world or take me right back into her life.
Then again, maybe I am just on one big treadmill, walking in place, getting nowhere.
Step after step.
Just hoping I am walking toward love and not away from it.
Because love is the only destination worth the trip.
Friday, May 24, 2013
Saturday, May 11, 2013
IN PRAISE OF MOTHERS
For most of us, tomorrow is a significant day, either because you are a mother or because you had one. And at least there is one day each year set aside to honor these remarkable women.
Now, I am not claiming every mother is a Madonna, nor that every woman is a saint, just that women tend to be far more saintly and a lot closer to the Blessed Mother than I or any other man could ever get. And the woman who is a mother -- by that I mean a mother and not just the bearer of children -- is closer to sainthood than men can even dream.
What I am ashamed of, then, is how so many men treat the mother of their children. I am embarrassed by those who abuse -- physically, mentally, emotionally -- the woman who bore their offspring. And how men, whether they are fathers and husbands or not, look down on most, if not all women. How can this be? Did not each and every one of us come into this world through a woman? None of us is a clone. None of us hatched on a fence post. None of us just materialized in adult form. No, all of us were born of woman. And because a woman gave life to each and every one of us, we should take Sunday and honor not just the woman who bore us, raised us and gave us a life and a future, but all women. Because every woman has within her a mother. Each and every woman deserves the honor and respect we give to a mother because she could be someone's mother at some time in her life.
Women are, after all, God's greatest gift to the world and the most amazing blessing bestowed on men. We will never completely understand why God would grant to us unworthy and undeserving males this wonderful gift, we will never know why God's plans for this planet and this species includes these incredible females, but we men certainly should take tomorrow, and every day of the year, to thank Him for this blessing and to consider ourselves the luckiest men on the face of the earth that one of these heavenly and saintly creatures even bothers to be a part of our lives.
And if we are among the lucky few for whom a woman bears love, and for whom we love in return, then we should sing her praises to the rest of the world every day for the rest of our lives. Because there is no greater gift in life than to find the one whom you love and who loves you in return. I should know. I did find her. And then I lost her. And I now know how empty and meaningless life is without love and the one you love in your life.
So here's to all women, and especially to those who have borne and raised children. They have blessed us all.
Now, I am not claiming every mother is a Madonna, nor that every woman is a saint, just that women tend to be far more saintly and a lot closer to the Blessed Mother than I or any other man could ever get. And the woman who is a mother -- by that I mean a mother and not just the bearer of children -- is closer to sainthood than men can even dream.
What I am ashamed of, then, is how so many men treat the mother of their children. I am embarrassed by those who abuse -- physically, mentally, emotionally -- the woman who bore their offspring. And how men, whether they are fathers and husbands or not, look down on most, if not all women. How can this be? Did not each and every one of us come into this world through a woman? None of us is a clone. None of us hatched on a fence post. None of us just materialized in adult form. No, all of us were born of woman. And because a woman gave life to each and every one of us, we should take Sunday and honor not just the woman who bore us, raised us and gave us a life and a future, but all women. Because every woman has within her a mother. Each and every woman deserves the honor and respect we give to a mother because she could be someone's mother at some time in her life.
Women are, after all, God's greatest gift to the world and the most amazing blessing bestowed on men. We will never completely understand why God would grant to us unworthy and undeserving males this wonderful gift, we will never know why God's plans for this planet and this species includes these incredible females, but we men certainly should take tomorrow, and every day of the year, to thank Him for this blessing and to consider ourselves the luckiest men on the face of the earth that one of these heavenly and saintly creatures even bothers to be a part of our lives.
And if we are among the lucky few for whom a woman bears love, and for whom we love in return, then we should sing her praises to the rest of the world every day for the rest of our lives. Because there is no greater gift in life than to find the one whom you love and who loves you in return. I should know. I did find her. And then I lost her. And I now know how empty and meaningless life is without love and the one you love in your life.
So here's to all women, and especially to those who have borne and raised children. They have blessed us all.
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