I think about her, sometimes, when my heart turns to sun. Nan. Her heart used to shine like that, too, which is why I can’t help but think of her when I feel intense love radiating from my own chest. As an off shoot of the kind of love she gave to me (and, let’s face it, probably genetics) I am who I am. And I love, as deeply as I love.
We fluff our ways through life, bothering about the silliest of things: when really we should hold the beauty, longer. Feel the love of our loved ones, longer. Express our love to others, without fear: give them the beautiful gift of sun that Nan gave to me.
I often think of Nan, and when I do I wonder why I loved her so deeply, why I still feel her today just as beautifully as I did when she was here. I loved her because she loved me. I loved her because there was never a question when I felt her energy how much it meant to her that I was alive. What a gift to be given by someone. What a gift: to know that you have touched their life, that you have meant something to their moments.
I shine when I look at my children with the same kind of love my Nan did when she looked at me, and I can only hope the depth of that love sinks into them as deeply as it has me.
I’m waffling a bit today, and that’s okay. I’m in my love place. I’m in my world of grateful and I intend to make the most of it and spread Nan’s sunshine, while I’m here.
She would have loved that.
She would have loved that I’ve given her sweet sunshine to you.
Most would consider it an embarrassment, I suppose, the darling life lesson that found me at the supermarket yesterday. But to me, it was a beautifully mysterious lesson, one I will never forget.
We’ve all had that moment, I’d imagine. The moment we see a person with a small handful of things lined up behind our massive trolley full, and the done thing is that we would usually let them sneak in before us. (No judgment if you don’t, we all have our reasons: shyness and social anxiety happen. And are absolutely worthy of understanding and empathy.)
Anyway, I’m waffling already, sorry.
Back to the supermarket line.
I had a full basket of things, not just a couple of items, and the lady in front of me had a trolley that was about three-quarters full, so according to my calculations…she really would have only taken a few extra minutes to check out than I. Still, she offered to have me pass, and would see it no other way.
I’m always so touched by genuine kindness, and this time was no exception. How could I return the kindness, and have her know just how much it meant to me? Could I pay for a small amount of her shopping as a nice surprise? No. I was paying by card. Could I buy her one of the mint packets sitting on the counter? Umm…no.
And that’s when I saw the bag. A beautiful country style shopping bag: I would buy that for her, and as I was leaving I would turn around and hand it to her, knowing we had both done our bit to brighten each other’s day.
The cashier announced the amount I owed, I opened my purse and…my card wasn’t there. My only way of paying for two bags worth of groceries and the special surprise bag…was-not-there. I was gutted. I walked away, without my bags, knowing that when I returned the kind lady would be gone, and I would have a random bag that I really didn’t need.
But as I drove home to pick up the very pesky card that had left itself in my jacket pocket, the universe flashed me a feeling here and there and suddenly I was face to face with the truth.
It was all meant to happen.
And it was meant to happen exactly as it happened in order for me to learn a lesson. What was the lesson? The lesson was kindness—my most fluent, and cherished language. And why did I have to forget my purse in order to remember that I value kindness above most things?
Because if I’d not forgotten my purse…I’d have given that bag to the lady.
And If I’d given it to the lady… I wouldn’t still have it, always to remind me how beautiful it feels to both give and receive kindness.
Well. 🙂 We made it my beautiful bloggy friends. 🙂 All the way through these darling days of May, and as always I’ve been so ridiculously grateful for your company. I really didn’t do an awful lot differently, did I, apart from add the word darling in here and there. Ha ha ha. Thank goodness I’m such a love hearty girl, in general, hey. 😛