WOMEN ARE STRONG

I chafe when a man calls his wife or girlfriend "the little woman" because the term diminishes her. I object when a man calls his wife "the old ball and chain" because he's belittling her and making her look overbearing and warden-like.
I also am bothered by terms like "the fairer sex" and the "the weaker sex" because I think they underestimate and overgeneralize. Yes, there are women who are fairer than men and women who are weaker then men or even other women. Does that mean the entire gender should be painted with that brush? I think not.
Science has shown that when it comes to pure physical strength, women cannot equal or exceed man. That said, there are men who are weak and women who are strong, just as there are men who are strong and women who are weak. And there are a whole lot of the rest of us somewhere in between. There are women I would not want to arm wrestle. And there are men whom I could easily beat, and I am certainly no body builder.
Most women I know, however, are far stronger mentally and emotionally than men. Yes, I said emotionally. You may be thinking of times when the woman you know has gone deep into the well of her emotions and thought surely men are stronger since, after all, we are trained not to show our emotions much, if at all. But if we men had the same levels of hormones coursing through our blood and occasionally spiking, we'd all be emotional basket cases, believe me. And while we men pride ourselves in being able to lift and carry more weight than the women we know and love, which one of us could endure the labor and pain of childbirth? None. Absolutely none. And yet women often endure it not once, but several times. Now which is the stronger sex?
I do think women, as a rule, strive to be fairer and to seek fairness in most things. While that term "the fairer sex" was not referring to that, I do think the label in that form might apply in general. Men tend to consider that life is never fair so why bother. Women, realizing life's innate unfairness, try to at least provide some balance to the otherwise unfair lives of those they love. It is not unlike trying to stem a raging flood with a teacup, but you have to give them credit for trying.
Women also have the innate ability to be more empathetic than the males of this world. I don't mean to imply that all women are more empathic than men, just that I think they are given the gift for greater empathy than men. Some exercise that gift and others do not. A woman I know, when faced with her own personal, emotional and relational burdens, still thinks first of how she can be more for those around her, whether they are family, friends or nearly complete strangers. She sees herself, and God, in those around her. And she sees with empathetic eyes that few others I know will ever have.
We men may have been blessed by our Creator with the brute muscular strength to move mountains, or at least small molehills, but women have been graced with a strength, a depth of emotion, an empathy and a spirit that we can only envy. Women are a living marvel. And we are so lucky they are all around us.

MEMORY

I haven't lived in that house for nearly two decades and yet I not only remember the address, I also remember the phone number I had when I lived there.
Memory is a funny thing. Sometimes you can't remember what you were about to say, or where you put the car keys you used yesterday and yet your memory can recall, with distinct and intricate detail, something that happened years, if not decades ago.
A friend once said she thought something was wrong with her because she was, she said, so forgetful. I told her that the mind gets filled with so many things to remember as we get older that we are bound to shove the less crucial things to the side and keep those memories we deem important where we can easily access them. Hence, she might forget where she put her cell phone because, for her, it simply is a tool. A young person, on the other hand, might never lose track of that device because, for them, it is a lifeline to friends and the outside world.
On the other hand, she might recall with great clarity a night spent with a friend while a young person might forget a friend's name.
It is all a matter of what really matters.
Which is why, on this day, I am remembering the birth of someone special, someone so amazing and so incredible. She no longer is in my life, but she will always be in my mind and in my heart. For there is no more important person on the planet to me and no one who can or will ever take her place. She is a singularity, a shining star, a walking, talking miracle.
Minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years, decades may pass, but she will never leave my memories. Which is why this day, this date will never go unnoticed, nor will her birth or the mother who bore her go unhonored. For on this day love came into the world and, in time, into my life. And nothing is more important than that.

LEARNING TO TRUST

All of my life I have trusted God.
Whatever came at me in life, I just tried to give it my best and let God take care of the rest. I assumed my best was all God could or would ever want.
I was okay with that arrangement. I'd do my best at everything and God would take care of the rest. It helped, of course, that the answer or result of such things came fairly quickly. There was no waiting for weeks or months or even years on end for Him to act or decide. He gave me enough patience to wait for everything else.
All during this time, I was waiting for love. I just assumed it was out there, somewhere, in the form of the right woman and that I would meet her at the right time and from that point on we would both love each other the best we could and we'd let God take care of the rest. I had no reason to doubt this would happen.
Life is never that simple, nor that easy.
God brought love into my life and just as quickly took it away. I'm still trying to figure out why. Was it something I did? Didn't do? Was it just the wrong time? Or is there some other reason why this didn't work out? Or is this simply a delay in the final decision? I still don't know and the not knowing has shaken my trust in God.
You see, it took a series of miracles just to bring the two of us together. It took even more miracles to open us up to each other. And the final miracle -- love itself -- seemed to convince me that this was ordained to happen by Him (or Her, if you prefer). So when it all fell apart, I was left wondering what was the point. Why perform all of these miracles in the lives of two people just to separate them? That just doesn't make much sense to me.
I've been mentally wrestling with this quandary ever since she walked out of my life. The part of me that recognizes the miracles feels the need to step in and do something to get her back. The more logical side of me sees the folly in that since such actions most certainly would only serve to push her further away.
What this calls for is trust. I have to trust in God as I have never trusted before. That's because the answer, if one indeed is ever coming, is not bound to arrive anytime soon. No, this is going to take a long time if it is ever to happen. I have to put my trust in Him and go on with my meager existence (I cannot in good conscience call anything without her in it a "life"), hoping one day He will reveal His plans to me.
I realize we each have free will and that maybe this is her expression of that ability, rejecting me and us. But this, then, is my exercise of free will. I choose to trust in God and to wait, as long as it takes, to see if maybe time will bring her back to me. If not, then too bad for me. If not, then God wasted some pretty amazing miracles just to give two people a short shot at love.

LOVE CAN'T BE FORCED

Love, I believe, is something we all seek.
Some of us search for it in money, believing a lot that will bring us a lot of love. Some of us search for it in sex, thinking if we give that away enough, sooner of later someone who receives it will love us. Some of us search for it in education, thinking if we were only smart enough, someone surely will love us. Some of us search for it in beauty, thinking that if we are just perfectly beautiful, then someone will love us.
Others become so disenchanted that they abandon the search completely for an antidote of alcohol and drugs to numb the unending ache. Others become so afraid of the risks that love demands that they cower in a shell of their own making, too fearful to even stick their heads out to see if the sun of love might shine on them.
And yet others, so unsure of what love is, grab the first thing resembling love and marry it, only to realize all too late that what they have is not love at all, but just a big mistake.
Much as we want and much as we try, one thing we simply cannot do is make someone love us or make ourselves love someone. It would be akin to making the sun rise at midnight or turn the ocean into a parched desert. We cannot change that which is out of our control, and those whom we love and whom love us is not within our power. It is beyond us and yet part of us. It is within us and within others and yet more than the sum of any two people in love.
We may love someone who, for reasons we cannot understand, either cannot or will not love us back. Or maybe they are too afraid to risk everything for love, preferring the safety of that shell. Oh, we can prod them and poke at them and even try to entice them to leave the safety of that shell. That may work, briefly, until their fears overwhelm them or they sense that pain and hurt are just around the corner.
But wouldn't it be so much better if they chose, of their own free will and when they were ready, to come out of that same shell and greet you, lovingly, the way you want it to be? Is not far better for them to realize love is something they want too and that they are now ready to take the risk? And if they cannot shake their fears, cannot find the courage to leave the safety of their shell -- a shell of their own making -- is it not better to continue to love and wait and hope, rather than to prod, poke and pester? Would you rather this person, in time, to remember you as someone who never stopped loving them or to always think of you as the person who simply would not leave them be? Would you rather be hated in the long term or loved forever?
You decide.
But you cannot make them love you, not until they and their heart are ready. So either be patient and hope they eventually will see you for who you are or be a pest and then they truly will hate you for what they think you are.

LOVE IS THE CURRENCY WE SPEND

Once, on a trip to Maine, I tried lobster. After all, "when in Rome, ..." And since people pay such a high dollar nearly everywhere else for this delicacy, I figured I might as well partake of it in the state where so many are caught.
I didn't like it. I found it rubbery and tasteless, kind of like a flavorless chewing gum.
You may well like lobster and, if you do, then all the more for you. I just won't be ordering it anytime in the foreseeable future.
On the other hand, I tried gyros while at a Greek restaurant in Toronto and loved them. I just have to figure out if I can find a similar eatery near my home and also determine if I can fix this tasty dish at home.
How I feel about those two foods are often the way we feel about people. Right or wrong, there are people whom we can take or leave, preferring to leave. And there are people we just love, no matter what.
Do not misunderstand me, the former group is not made up of people we hate or abhor, for those emotions are far too similar to love in that they are passions stirred up. No, the former group is filled with those people for whom we have no strong feelings at all -- not love nor hate, like nor dislike; more indifference than anything else.
My father once spoke about his time in the military and said he learned one thing about life from it. When he walked into the barracks for the first time, he said, he realized there were about five or six guys he liked right away and about five or six he didn't like right away. The rest were, as he said, "in the middle." And when boot camp was over, he said, a few of the "liked" five or six had moved to the "disliked" five or six and vice versa. But no one had left the middle.
The challenge in life, sometimes, is in doing something caring and loving for any of those people for whom we have no strong interest. If you don't love someone, it can be very difficult to want to do them any favors, especially if it means going well out of your way. If you don't like them, chances are they will never ask anything of you. Ironically, a person for whom you really have no interest at all, about whom you have no strong feelings, can land on your "disliked" list if they ask too much of you too often. What bothers you isn't the person, so much as their uncanny ability to constantly ask for things or services. They may just be trying to constantly get your attention in a cloying and demanding way without being able to accept that they simply are not on your personal radar.
On the other hand, a person you love can ask for anything and you will do everything in your power to get it for them, no matter how difficult or demanding the request. Even if they ask you to never speak to them again, you may try to talk them out of it but you will do your best to honor that request, despite the personal pain you feel, all because of the love you have for them.
Love, in the end, makes all of the difference in our personal relationships. Giving to the ones we love is easy, even when it is not. Giving to someone we don't care about at all can be trying and difficult, largely because we do not love them. For it is love that we give when we do for others and it is hard to give love to someone for whom we don't feel any love. Love is the currency we spend and we spend it best with those we love.

WHEN WE MEET AGAIN

We both had to attend the event so we knew we would see each other.
And yet never before have I felt so uncertain of how to act with her, around her, near her. Was I to be friendly? Stand-offish? Pretend I don't know her at all? Or act in some other way entirely?
She and I had gone from a relationship of open, frank and honest communication, all of it wrapped in a gentleness and kindness the likes of which I have never before known and never will again, to complete and utter isolation. Where we once knew what each other was thinking and feeling, even when simply talking online, now neither of us could read the other.
So when I saw her, checking in at the event, I did not know how to act. She waved, but was it to me or to the person who was helping her find her nametag? The last time I'd seen her, from a slight distance, she'd appeared to be angry at the sight of me, so I could only assume she would not be thrilled to see me at this event, even though I was fairly certain my presence was no surprise to her.
By the time the event was over, things were not clearer but more confused. There was no time to talk alone, even for a minute, to shed even a sliver of light on what was, or was not, going on between us or how either of us was to act if and when any similar meetings occur in the future.
Since that time, some months ago now, I cannot help but recognize just how easily interpersonal relationships can get twisted and screwed up by misread signals and miscommunication.
I used to think that such things were beyond us, that we had established such a solid foundation of communication and trust and honesty that we'd never be the victims of mixed signals. And maybe, if we had kept those lines of communication open and the information freely flowing between us, that would be true. At the same time, though, I also thought we knew each other so well that we'd always feel deeply in touch and that we'd always be able to read each other's faces, minds and hearts, even from across a crowded ballroom.
But, as with so many relationship issues, I was so terribly wrong.
First of all, in times of interminable silence, the heart and mind fill in the gaps. What gets tossed into those gaping holes tends to be all the worries, fears, anxieties and doubts we've ever had, along with some nightmares and a few really bad ideas. And the only thing that can really dispel this darkness of the heart and soul is the light of communication and sharing. Without that, all manner of horrible thoughts creep in so that, when finally face-to-face again, even the smallest gesture, or the hint of a gesture, is subjected to intense scrutiny and examination until it is deemed to be the proof of something hideously horrible. In no time at all, people who once deeply and profoundly trusted and cared for each other are more wary and frightened than two longtime combatants.
Secondly, we need to realize, when placed in such situations, that neither of us is acting like we would, or could, if we were simply alone with this other person. No, there are other people around and so neither of us is being ourselves anyway. But where we would have linked arms and attacked the task of being at this event as a team before, we now face the event alone and each other alone, but in this stifling crowd. So unless we can fashion a moment of privacy to speak to each other, it is going to be a strain on both of us and no one is themselves when under such stress. So we should not read too much, if anything, into our behavior in such situations. Wait, instead, for a time alone to talk. Or simply wash what happens at such events from your memory completely, because it was not real or honest.
Finally, we both need to realize we cannot assume, as we once did, that the other person knows what we are thinking and feeling. The lines of communication once between us have been frayed so that, at best, only partial thoughts, feelings, emotions and ideas are getting through. She can no longer look at my face and see my every thought and feeling on it. And I cannot look into her eyes and know what she is thinking at this very moment. Maybe some day we can rebuild those lines. But we should never assume they still are feeding us correct and clear information until then.
It is very hard to go from being so intimately connected to being isolated and cut off from each other. It is even harder then to find yourselves thrust together in an uncomfortable and unfriendly setting where communication remains strained and difficult, and most certainly not intimate and honest.
So try to keep your mind from thinking the worst of her and may she not think the worst of you.
At least until you both can speak easily and freely to each other, face to face.

KNOWN VS. UNKNOWN

The father spoke, saying how this winter had been better than the last. Last year he and his wife suffered as they watched their teenage son suffer with an unknown ailment. He had trouble eating and, as an athlete, nourishment is crucial.
This winter, he said, is better because while there is no known cure for what his son has, at least they all know what troubles him. And that makes it tolerable and, for the son, endurable. Because there are measures he can take to minimize the problem.
There are times when the unknown is frightening. In a dark, unfamiliar house. In a strange city after dark. When encountering someone new. When starting a new job. When lost and disoriented.
But there are other times when the unknown is better than the known. At least in some ways.
I have spent years searching for love. I always hoped it was out there, hoped that somewhere along the way I had not missed it through sheer stupidity or naivete. But I did not know whether I'd find it, if it even was out there for me, or if I would recognize it if, indeed, fate and God brought it to me.
Nor did I know what truly and completely loving someone was like.
But then love came into my life, beautifully and amazingly. And I now know just how utterly life-changing that experience is. While I never would surrender a moment with the woman I love for anything this world has to offer, I also know now what I was missing. And, because she has since left my life, I also live daily with the knowledge of what love feels like, how it transforms us in immutable ways and how you cannot erase the permanent change to your heart.
For now I not only know there is a woman out in this world whom I love more than life itself, but I also know that I must live out the rest of my days without her, that I must replace that sense of the unknown with the certainty of the known and the lost. I now know that love is out there, in the world. I know where that love lives and what she looks like, how she thinks, who she really is. And that information is utterly mine and utterly useless because she no longer wants to be in my life or be with me.
They say it is better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all. I would not disagree with that, since I truly believe love is the most precious and important gift we can give or receive. But I also know, from years of experience, that sometimes it is better to not be sure that love, for you, is out there at all. Because once you know, and once you love, there is no forgetting. And no going back.