(Something I wrote in Dec. 2011… I call it a poem though I’m not sure the term really fits)
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They say people live in us.
Our souls, our hearts, our thoughts are somehow infused with all the connections we make in our lives.
The good friends, the noisy family, the random strangers, the blessedly quiet (or not) neighbors.
It’s quite a crowd when you think about it.
And, as in every crowd, a few faces seem to pull focus and all the others seem to blur, all the other chatter dims to a hum.
These are the special ones; they leave imprints that can never be erased.
Even if they go away, the connection is still there.
Isn’t that something?
What made them different? Why does it feel like something was gained when something was lost?
I say it was in their kindness.
If they were funny, if they were honest with us, if they stayed with us in difficult times…that was kind.
If they took on what they didn’t want to, if they challenged us to be better, stronger…that was kind.
If, above all, they made us feel loved, well, that was especially kind.
The word ‘memory’ doesn’t even apply because their grace lives in us.
Like a sweet aroma, it lingers.
And it reminds us to keep pulling focus on the kindness.
The gift of someone’s love never ends.
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CAS Licet 