“With That Moon Language”
Everyone you see, you say to them, “Love me.”
Of course you do not do this out loud, otherwise someone would call the cops.
Still, though, think about this, this great pull in us to connect.
Why not become the one who lives with a full moon in each eye
that is always saying,
with that sweet moon language,
what every other eye in this world is dying to hear?
At late middle age, I am thinking, why be stingy with expressions of my affection and even love? Those very dear to me never seem to tire of hearing it.
It’s a different question with my (not casual) friends. Some are clearly open and like sponges, welcome the water of of my words. After all, who receives too much real love? By love, I mean not only warm feelings, which may come and go. By author Keith Miller’s definition, love is showing active good will toward another. So clearly, it is a commitment and not stated lightly. Some of these other friends seem embarrassed by it, as if they might need to reciprocate, but I think they aren’t obligated to do so. It’s just me, feeling freer at this stage of my life. I have more room in my heart now than in earlier stages.
Slowly, I have become friends with my husband’s adult children Heather and Jim. They have witnessed my love for their Dad through all of his health crises: five surgeries, one of which was for cancer, and two other life-threatening conditions requiring hospitalization, all in the last eleven years. (We are celebrating our tenth wedding anniversary soon. We joke that he married me, a hospital chaplain, in the nick of time! Despite all the health challenges, he is still an amazing athlete.) We all love the same wonderful man, knowing many of his flaws. And I really love and respect Heather and Jim, as I have grown in knowing them individually. Lately, I have begun to say so.
“I love you, Heather.”
“I love you, Jim.”
Why? Because I speak that sweet moon language that everyone in this world is dying to hear. And because it is true.