When love pours out and touches another life the human ground it touches is nourished and made ready for the harvest. I have seen this miracle occur many times. It happens between loving parents and their children. It can be seen even in the brief moments when we give of ourselves to strangers with a need. I can see it in my own life.
If I were to die tomorrow, I would do so knowing I have been loved. Loved not only by my parents and children but willingly by a stranger who walked into my life and decided to stay. He saw I was a work in progress, a feisty, chaotic, messy artist. Though my nature contradicts his and my stubbornness and pride are never in short supply, he chose to stay and pitch his sail next to mine. I feel blessed to call him my best friend and husband. When I speak of "love" as a person, it is he of whom I speak.
The difficult question is "how have I loved in return?" Has my love yielded a great harvest in my love’s life? Has my love empowered him to reach beyond? Or, have I stunted his arch, kept him near to suit my purpose? I think my love’s answer would vary from day to day. The answer to this question keeps me on my toes. My love’s mind and passions fuel my life, creating a dynamic combustion that builds more oomph into my standard drive. But where is his fahrvergnugen?
I do not know what he would say but I think his "joy" and his "drive" are in effecting change. Change like the one I am convinced happens in the prison when he breaks every mold and conception and with his time and talent sits down to talk to youths about their wants and desires and plans for the future. If each life he has touched were a point of light in a dark night, I would say he has lit a tiny corner of this earth.
On this my love’s 38th birthday, I can only endeavor to love him better. The world needs more light and I know he could make this world a brighter place.