Who Says Money Doesn't Buy Happiness

Love.
There are a lot of different kinds out there.
Never seems to be enough though, right?

Some people are easy to love. Honestly, I think most people are really easy to love. The older I get, the more I realize that I seem to have a gift for loving others. I can think of only one person really that I don't love. Or at least I didn't think I loved him. He makes me crazy with his smooth talk and salesman attitude. He walked into a party last summer and I had to turn away so I could roll my eyes in private. Eventually we crossed paths. After 30 seconds I realized, yeah, I kind of love him a little, too. Not enough to keep talking to him. I didn't want to press my luck or anything. I moved on to someone else and left the party with warm fuzzies for SmoothTalker.

I most recently have fallen in love with an 81 year old man that hangs out at 7-11. He gets up early and collects cans. I get up early and collect myself. With the help of a double gulp. We have been friends for about oh...8 months. He sometimes brings me pictures of his kids (who are old enough to be my parents). He hugs me, too. All this by 7am. Life's little gifts, I say.

There are no words to explain my attachment to my children. The connection between whatever word I could use would have a tenuious relationship to the true emotion. I won't bore you or even try to explain it. But it's pretty great.

Someone once told me divine love is best described as, "the Redeemer's love He feels for the redeemed while in the act of redeeming them."
Sounded like someone was being cheeky until I really thought about it.  I wondered if I had ever felt like that for someone.
Years and years ago, I heard of a family who had just lost their 2 year old to the flu. A heartbreaking story not unlike many other sad stories we all hear. There was a fund set up to help pay for the funeral costs. I felt inclined to help. After a few quick phone calls, some friends and I had collected about $500. I called the funeral home. Tears, donations, tears, thank yous. I was gutsy enough to ask if there was more needed for this small, very young family. The financial burden of a death was something they were not prepared for and it ruined me to think this couple was going to have to make monthly payments on their child's casket and tombstone.
I called my husband. I was so emotional it was difficult to speak. I asked him, my darling unemployed-at-the-time-husband, if we could do more. I was uncomfortable leaving things as they were. With his consent, I called the funeral home and paid the balance on their account.
I still cry when I think about it, all these years later. Even right now. And I think I am so easily overcome because with that offering on my part, I felt and got to be a part of something Divine.
That chunk of money has brought me a peace and a joy that no other trinket or bobble has given me. I don't think money is the key to giving love. Just worked out that way here.
My husband won't even talk about it. He even told me so when we did it. To never mention it again. He feels like it cheapens the experience. Maybe I've just wrecked it all with this one and only public admission.
But I wonder what it would be like if we all went around giving pure, selfless, needed love. Not giving because I want to give it, but giving because someone needs it.
I hope I can feel that way again. If one act of kindness can fill years with an indescribable happiness, what would two acts do? Three?
I hope to find out.

So, In This Hour.....

Why does buying JetDry, that blue liquid you're supposed to put in your dishwasher, seem like such an extravegance? My word. I nearly had an emotional breakdown in the chemical isle. I NEVER buy it. But I always want it. It's a whopping $2.74 and I somehow take this to be the most expensive $2.74 in the known universe. Conversely, I spent $1.99 at a restaurant Thursday for a side of salad dressing to dip my fries in. I hate ketchup.
I know, I know. Get in line. I even annoy myself.

93% of the time, I'm pretty sure I'm married to the greatest man on the planet. He's like the physical manifestation of all my hopes and dreams. AND, he has no chest hair.
Here are some of his recent highlights:
-Thursday night, he made me laugh so hard I hurt myself.
-Friday, he came home early from work very early; about 2pm. I was still in my pj's, surrounded by unfolded laundry, lost in a book. Our youngest was eating Cheerios from a baggie. Bryan opened the door. Calvin ran to the door, squealing all the way. When he got a proper view of the state of things, he greeted me with a kiss, calling me "Stinky". When Calvin asked to go on a walk, Bryan took him right outside, loaded him in the red Radio Fyler wagon and trotted off. When Calvin ordered him to "go fatter", he went fatter.
-When I could finally pull myself away from my book, he took me to dinner. He didn't care that I had to wear a RedSox hat because I was still stinky.
-At night, he puts on a vest weighted down with 45lbs and does pull ups. It's almost so manly it's annoying. Ben, Jerry and I watch from the bed.
-Today, he, Lauren and I went on a diet coke run. Lauren noticed a kid (3, maybe 4)running alone through the parking lot. Bryan jumped out, of the car, ran across the lot and got to the kid just as a minivan was backing out. That cute little boy with his firetruck was just behind the bumper. Lauren and I watched from my car. We were stunned, sitting in our seats. Watching it all unfold, Lauren said she felt sick. I agreed. Plus,  my underarms were tingly.
-He has never, not ever, raised his voice at me.
-Early this morning, on my first diet coke run, I crossed paths with a man I call "The Creeper". This guy scares the hell out of me. He and I have crossed paths 3 times. Two of those times, he has tried to strike up a conversation with me.
Our first meeting was in line, late at night, at the super market. I was second in line, he was behind me. He immediately started complaining about his ex wife. He was clearly angry. I was clearly uncomfortble. He went on and on. I did my best to disengage from this onesided conversation. In a creepy twist, he began talking about me; saying how someone as pretty as me wouldn't be interested in him. Someone as young as me, pretty as me, attractive as me...he went on and on, repeating himself over and over and over. My skin was crawling and every internal, innate alarm was on red alert. When my transaction was finally finished, I got to my car as fast as I could. I threw my stuff in, showing no care to my bread and eggs. I had sense enough to make note of the few items in his cart and knew he wouldn't be far behind. I started my car and as I drove out of the lot, I made sure no one was behind me. I went a long way home just in case.
I was in tears when I got home. I have nevered been so scared in  public place. Maybe not that kind of scared ever.
I saw him again. I was behind him at  convienence store in another town. I didn't realize it was him until he spoke to the cashier. Just his voice made my every nerve a live wire.
 I see plenty of people in the course of a normal day. Almost no one scares me. This guy makes me feel like a gazelle on the African plains.
I hadn't seen him in months. Frankly, I had happily forgotten about him. This time he was 3 or 4 people ahead of me. He payed for his stuff and on his way to the door, passed all of the rest of us in line. He jerked his head up to me as  form of recognition. Out of pure reflex, I grinned slightly. Not a smile, I just pulled my checks up. It took a full second to register that it was "The Creeper." I paid for my drink and booked it to my car. Before I got my door closed, I was saying-as calm as I could- "It's him! Its the Creeper."
My husband's response?
"I know. I noticed him in the store. I watched him watch you when he came out."
Bryan had never been with me when I have seen "The Creeper."

Sometimes, I think I'm married to Batman.
I wish I could tell you more. But I'd have to kill you. Really.