Comedian Zarna Garg says that she has never said "I love you" to her husband of more than 23 years and asks, "What's the rush?" She goes on to explain that like many immigrants from India, she wasn't raised with that phrase. Nor was she raised with other things like hugs and candlelight dinners. I'm so happy that Zarna has become famous because she explains a lot of things that help me explain my upbringing and how that has affected my relationships. Gerardo was also raised similarly, which is one of the reasons I felt so comfortable with him more than 30 years ago when we met and fell in love.
Fast forward to today where we have evolved into people who say it more. We also hug more. Maybe because we've both met people who help us practice the hugs and sentiment. And also maybe because we realize how few days each of us have on this earth. As my favorite tweeter (@death_reminder) on Twitter tweets every day the same message: "You will die someday."
LAST & THIS
Last December, Gerardo was at the UCI hospital for days and nights where he was in an exhausting amonia-buildup loop where the words from his mouth started to say "The probability ..." and never concluded into a complete sentence as gibberish took over. Those words repeated endlessly. It was not scary. It was terrifying. This December, he was at the UCI hospital for an incarcerated hernia that thankfully stabilized without surgery.
HOLLOW
Christmas felt best when I was a kid. Maybe up until I was about 12 it felt good. And then every year since then, it started feeling strange and weird. I think it's because I see more vividly every year, the commercialization, materialism, over-indulgence, over-spending, and wastefulness that eventually pile up into a heap of meaninglessness. Hollow.
WORTHY
When I see Gerardo finding hope through his faith, I don't see hollow. Speaking of faith, I recently attended a church service where from the pulpit came words that moved me. The words were about how when faced with an incredible gift, we humans have assorted ways of responding. We sometimes respond with initial glee followed by apathy. At other times, as we cite wrongs from the past, we respond with hostility. The pastor delivering this sophisticated message noted with humility that historically, the church has been at the epicenter of sin that has bred understandable hostility. Because the church isn't God. The church is human. And all humans are deeply flawed. Another way we respond is with worship. The pastor dissected the word to explain that it is rooted in the word "worthy" and that to be in worship is to be in a state of being worthy. And to be worthy is to strive toward the original nature of God, not human.
SOLID
I also don't see hollow when I see Gerardo having good moments with clean food that lands well ... like the homemade chicken and potato soup that I made for our lunch. I also don't see hollow when I hear his uncontrollable laughter as he watches comedians' specials. And mostly, I don't see hollow when he and I struggle to process the tremendous pain and loss that have been ours this year and accept that all we can do is muddle through somehow. I think it's ok to occasionally talk and weep about the intense feelings of hurt that life has dealt us. That's what therapy is. The processing of feelings. Except we don't get an invoice for doing it when we allow ourselves to do it on our own. Solid.
BEGINNINGS, MIDDLES ENDS BEGINNINGS
Everything has a beginning, middle, and an end. I think that sometimes when I think something has ended, other things begin. My hope is that everyone I love and care about will experience many new and wonderful beginnings.
Before 12, when Christmas didn't feel weird, I had faith. Lately, I find myself seeing glimpses of that faith making cameos in my life and heart. Like that sermon. Like my ability to hug and say "I love you." Like Gerardo's laughter. Like my friend with whom I'm reading the Book of Job and sharing our thoughts about it all who wrote to me to say she thinks religion is for people who are afraid of hell while spirituality is for people who have gone through hell.
As I muddle through and grapple with, I sometimes pray. Not for the granting of wishes or a list of parlor tricks I want God to perform by preventing this or strong-arming that. Rather, I pray that I can better understand the bigger picture. That I can marvel at it. That I can even worship it.
