When I was in the third grade my family lived in the country. The bus would drop us off after school and we would run down our long driveway to the house. By “long”, I mean a quarter mile. By “run”, I mean my two older sisters, Jenni and Cynthia, would run, while I walked because I couldn’t keep up. Plus, I knew there was no point because of what awaited me. My sisters would race into the house, long before I could make it, and systematically ensure sure all doors were locked. I, on the other hand, would meander down the drive only to see my sisters making faces at me, through the sliding glass door, as I rounded the last bend. On cue, they would laugh uproariously with how hilarious they thought they were. It never got old for them. I would stand around, waiting to be let in and eventually, seeing that was not likely, would go play until they got bored and undid the lock.
One beautiful spring afternoon my sisters and I played the “lock little sister out” game. I was at the part where I was making evil gestures at them through the sliding glass door. Suddenly, Jenni’s face went blank and pasty, and Cynthia’s face was taken up by her mouth in the large shape of an “O”. “Well, these expressions are new,” I thought. While Jenni struggled with the lock, which always stuck, I saw something unfamiliar in her demeanor; sheer panic. Before I could deduce anything, the door slid open and both my sisters grabbed me by my collar and pulled me into the house. They slid the door shut with a “whoosh” and turned to face me. As they split apart, it all became clear. I could see what was outside. A very large brown bear was making his way up the steps to the exact spot where I had been standing.
I put my hand over my mouth and doubled over laughing so hard I could hardly get air. They stood perplexed, looking first at me and then each other. “You dooooo love me!!!” I howled. “I knew it!”. Their faces fell, they new the “gig” was up. I had found them out and their facade was forever cracked.
From that moment then on their “games” never really had the same impact on my because I knew, and they knew I knew.
You can’t hide true love in a crisis.
Share with me a moment where someone’s love became clear to you!
5 Responses
While your experience is still fodder for therapy, in my humble opinion, I love the sentiment revealed. On our 10th wedding anniversary, my husband left a letter for me on the chair where I read my Bible daily. In it, he had written all the things he loves about me, in detail. Knowing that words of affirmation are my love language, he filled my bucket to overflowing with a multiple-page letter of positive, encouraging, and (ahem) intimate words of love. It was a turning point in our marriage and I still pull it out and read it from time to time.
I love that Jenni! Love revealed. I too am a sucker for the written word! Thank you, as always for responding. XOXO
I can’t believe I haven’t heard this story before. I love it. Love It.
I love that we all get into a habit, a rut, a patterned way of interacting and unfortunately, it sometimes takes a catastrophe, a danger, close call, to wash away the norm, shake us out of our dysfunction and reveal the beauty of true love. And you just told it so well. Thank you.
Love you old friend.
I have a few moments that stand out for me throughout my lifetime. The one major crisis was during a health decline 17 years ago when I went from an active person to being paralyzed up to my eyes in a 36 hour period. Although I was unable to move I was fully aware of everything going on around me and had a sound mind. As I lay in the ICU of the hospital I worked in for 3 weeks and then a long recovery of learning how to do everything all over again for the next year I was reminded of the love that surrounded me. Daily visits from my committed father who became my primary caregiver were the highlight of my day. After a few weeks the visits from friends and family faded as people returned to their own busy lives however my father reminded me daily of the amazing friends I had who sent emails from all over the world to my father almost daily that he read to me as he sat at my bedside day in and day out. At the end of the year, when life returned to somewhat normal, I paused and looked at who really mattered in my world. My illness actually provided a cathartic process to remove the dead weight of fair-weather friends and allowed for a recommitment of those friendships I cherish so dearly to this day . People do not need to be present for you to know you are loved. Words that were written were so powerful and are ingrained in my memory.
OMG….I. LOVE. THIS. Such a great story. Tells me you really get the theme! Thankyou for sharing Courtney!!!!