Lovebugs (A Continuation)

Several years ago, my grandpa told me a story.

He told me lots of stories, my whole life.

He was always sharing stories.

But the story I’m referring to is a specific one. It’s the story about lovebugs.

I remember that day. He was staying at a rehab/physical therapy center after suffering a horrible fall. Despite his situation, he didn’t seem deterred – his spirits were up. So, he was helped out of bed and into his wheelchair and then it was just the two of us.

I’m not sure how we landed on the topic of lovebugs, but there was never any true reasoning for how or why we jumped from one topic to the other. We were always simply swept up in the tides of conversation, going wherever they took us.

And that’s when he told me the story of lovebugs.

Lovebugs – attach to each other for life.

Even now it still reminds me of my grandparents – 71 years together – and all the other long-lived, lovebug type of relationships of the people in my life.

At the time, I was still searching for my lovebug.

Now, I’m about three months away from getting married.

I’ve definitely found my lovebug in life.

I know there are many people still searching for that special connection and, I just want to say, it’s out there. I think we all deserve that love, that special person who wants to share our life with us. We all deserve to find our lovebug.

The Idea of Wishes

Several weeks ago, I finished reading a collection of short stories by Ray Bradbury entitled Long After Midnight.

I greatly enjoyed each story, but there was one that has stuck with me. Maybe it’s because of where I am in my life at the moment. Maybe it’s because of the heartache I’ve been dealing with lately. Maybe it’s because, in a way, I can relate to it. Or maybe it’s a combination of all of the above mentioned. Whatever the reasoning, that magical story that has stayed with me is called The Wish.

The story takes place in the middle of a snowstorm. During this time one of the characters makes a wish. He wishes to have his father alive again just for one hour.

Now, I’ve always believed there to be something magical about snow, and that if we wish for something hard enough it might come true (some people call those types of wishes prayer), but what really caught me was the wish itself.

What a wonderful thing it would be.

What a wonderful thing it would be if those kinds of wishes actually came true.

Honestly, this story made me cry. (Writing this post is making me a little teary-eyed too.)

In the story, the man’s wish is granted. Of course, he seemed to have wished his wish so he and his father could have one last chance to say the things left unsaid.

My reasoning for making the same wish would be different.

But, in the end, when you lose a loved one, does the reasoning for such a wish really matter?

My wish…I’d wish for my grandparents to be alive again. Even if it was just for one hour.

To be able to see them, to be able to hug them, to be able to feel them embrace me, to be able to tell them how much I love them and to hear them say those words back – those are things I’ll never have again.

For two years I missed all those things. By the time it was even close to being safe enough to consider seeing them, it was too late. The last time I ever saw them was the day I buried them.

I know I’m not the only person dealing with the pain that comes along with the loss of a loved one. I know I’m not the only one who has thoughts or dreams or wishes of having that person, or persons, back, even if it’s just for a little while.

And that brings me back to Bradbury’s story. That brings me back to the beautiful, haunting, and bittersweet idea of such a wish.

But…what a wonderful thing it would be if those kinds of wishes actually came true.

We Are…

we are the fire
of deep-rooted passion
burning
in the fight for equality
waiting to be seen
waiting to be heard
waiting on men
to decide our fate

we are the oncoming storm
the lightening in the dark
the thunder on the ground
the rain over desert hearts
that won’t let up
in our fight
a fight no man truly understands
until walking in a woman’s shoes

we are the frothy sea
rushing toward the shore
rushing to save what our ancestors won
rushing to save ourselves in this life
rushing to save the future for our daughters
so they will have a chance
at living how we couldn’t
and proving we can all do better

we are the impending war
defending our rights
defending our bodies
defending our futures
while the ignorant, fearful, and uninformed fight
to keep us in cages
while also preaching equality
and breeding hypocrites

we are women
bearing pains men will never know
bearing voices meant to be heard
bearing a worth this world has yet to see
while others think they know best
our voices go ignored
and our value faces attempts of degradation

we are warriors
some of the strongest to set foot on Earth’s soil
some of the bravest to keep living
some of the loudest to speak
in a world not allowing us to truly live
and wishing to keep us silent
we will not – cannot –
be silenced

Time Moves So Quickly

Turns out Grandma was right.

And Grandpa.

And Mom.

And Dad.

Turns out they were all right – times does seem to go faster as you get older.

As a child, I never thought about it. (My brain wasn’t hardwired that way. Besides, I was busy being a kid.)

As a teen, I suspected. (But, seriously, the teenage years are difficult enough.)

As a woman in her 20s, I understood they were right, but didn’t want to admit it. (No one ever seems to want to admit their elders are right, even if they have years of wisdom and might know a thing or two. Maybe it’s a pride thing or, maybe, when we’re younger we just think we know best and have all the answers.)

And now, I am the age I am and I’m not only fully aware they were right, but also fully willing to admit it.

I can’t be the only one. Right?

Maybe I figured it out earlier then most. Or maybe I figured it out later. Or maybe it doesn’t really matter when any of us figure these things out as long as, at some point, we do.

And when we suddenly find ourselves in that state of awareness where time seems to move faster as we get older, then, we should probably try to live each day fully. (Actually, there’s no ‘probably’ about it.) We should try to appreciate the things we have, instead of focusing on the things we don’t. We should tell our loved ones we love them while we have the chance. We should try to see the things we want to see, visit the places we want to visit, do the things we want to do, and spend time with the people we love.

Especially if time flies. And especially if time is the one thing we can never get back.