Telling the ones you love that you love them, and why

This is one of the four or five most important things we get to do in life. One of my most cherished girl friends from high school and I reaquainted on face book. She apologized to me for "treating me badly" back in high school. Sheesh, I NEVER once thought that, and told her so. She now works counseling unwed mothers, being with them through their pregnancy as they carry it to full term. Some of these young girls have no one else. I'm weeping now just from the joy of having been loved by someone who follows so devoutly in the way as shown and told to us by Jesus of Nazereth - carpenter, fisher, teacher, leader, healer, story-teller, saviour.

 

Hi Donna! I'm sorry to hear that your folks are ailing. They were always so kind and generous to me, always made me feel I was welcomed and loved in their home, an honored guest at the dinner table, and they trusted me to be good to you (showing their extraordinarily excellent judgement of character)!

I doubt I ever shared this with you, but, it is as good as anything I ever wrote. I was saddened when you realized that I was not the boy friend you needed at that time of your life, but looking back, I was looking for something that was more than you were looking to share, which happens so frequently. But my motivation was honorable, and I did adore you so much (and have grown, thanks to this here facebook thingie, to adore you and admire you all the more:

China Doll

Here is evidence that I was once young, romantic, and subject to heartbreak. Didn't even know I still had a copy of this, written in 1969, when I wore a younger man's clothes. Assuredly, I gave away too much of myself - in those days anyway. Has anything changed?

China Doll

I am a China Doll.

Fragile.

Don't breath too hard,

I might fall and shatter.

The little brown-eyed, blond haired,

four year old child holds me

in his fingers (he can squeeze and I

might or might not shatter, probably

not, he's not yet strong, although he is

as a god with the power

of life and death. Unconsciously

he holds me to set me

down gently to play with

another day or to end suddenly

me. and when he does (he will, for he

knows no better) he may laugh,

or he may cry, but he will be

changed and he will remember.

I am a China Doll.

Fragile.

Don't breath to hard,

I might fall and shatter.

You hold me in your heart,

now, at least. You hold me

more than you will ever know.

A China Coll is at first fascinating,

lovable. But a China Doll

is unsure and even having the

power, he can only hold it impotently

until it inevitably changes hands.

You hold me more than you will

ever know. You hold me to set

me down gently to play with

another day or to drop and end suddenly,

me. you know, or at least should know

that China Dolls break and suddenly;

though if not forever, broken, they are changed.

I can be glued together again, and

again, and maybe I'll laugh and

maybe I'll cry, but I will be changed

and I will remember, and

I will break and break and break and break and break and

break and break again until finally,

I jump. Myself. And shatter

into a million lost pieces.

A China doll.

YOU HOLD ME MORE THAN YOU WILL EVER KNOW.

This was all about you, and your youngest brother, and, of course, me. But the problem with me was that I invested and placed in your hands too much responsibility for my own autonomy, which is never a good thing.

One of my favorite songs is Kathy's Song, by Simon and Garfunkel. But, the problem with that song, is that the poet has invested too much of his autonomy, too much of his heart, in another human being. That's WAY too much to give away, and way to much to put on some one else's plate. Lord only knows, we have enough of our own life to deal with without having someone dump theirs into our laps.

I've developed a wonderful (albeit long distance) relationship with Kathleen Harris, as amazing a human being as ever I've met (and I've met quite a few amazing ones - in the best sense of "amazing"). I re-worked the Simon and Garfunkel song for her, and for what she gives to me, for what we share, and for what we hold on to of our own. Here goes:

I hear the drizzle of the rain

Like a sweet melody it falls

Soft and warm continuing

Tapping on my roof and walls

And from the safe harbor of my mind

Through the bay window of my eyes

I gaze beyond the rain-drenched streets

To L.A. Where my heart lies

My mind is focused, unconfused

Though my thoughts are many miles away

They dream of of when you're asleep

They kiss you when you start your day

And I song I was writing's so soon done

I don't know how you inspire me so

Filling me with God's grace and Love

Always remembering to let me know

And as I watch those drops of rain

Weave their cheery paths and thrive

I know that I am like the rain

When I'm with you I'm most alive

And so you see I have no doubts

All that I once held still holds as true

I stand tall, sharing my beliefs

In the one true God with you

All is inordinately well in my world. I know what I am called to do, and it still leaves me with much time to do much, much more; to learn something new every day; and to rejoice in the simplest of things. I am blessed in so many ways, and you have indeed been one of those blessings.

Warmest regards, deepest gratitude.

Mark