The Love We Make
“And in the end, the love we take will be equal to the love we make.”
It is after midnight and my brain is not cooperating with me. The line above is from a Beatles song and at the moment I can quite put my finger on which one it is. It is frustrating to come so close yet not quite grab that brass ring.
Life has been far too busy. I don’t like racing around constantly. I don’t like feeling like I don’t have time to catch my breath. I don’t like the feeling of not quite accomplishing everything I want to do because of time constraints.
Blogging has been really slow. It feels strange to say that. Most of the time blogging is a priority. It is a place, a refuge, my fortress of solitude. It is not the only way I vent, but it is an important one and for a variety of reasons I just haven’t done it. The strange thing is that I can’t decide if I miss it. I think that is because I have been so focused on other things.
One of the many things that I love about my son is that he is a loyal friend. He has learned at an early age the value of being there to help his friends. I’ll take some credit for it, but not all. It is in the genes. I can point to my parents and grandparents as being the people I learned from.
We all go through hard times. We all hit rough spots in which life is less than pleasurable. Sometimes it is hard to see the end of the tunnel. That is when friends are really important. They are the people that give you a hug when you need it or a swift kick in the ass. A good friend doesn’t disappear on you when things get rough.
I have a few projects that I am currently working on. It is fair to say that I am a little nervous about them. I am superstitious enough that I won’t do more than speak about them in general terms. My heart tells me that in the end everything is going to work out, but still those butterflies flit back and forth.
If you want the big reward you have to be willing to take the big risk. That has been a belief of mine for years, but I haven’t always been good about acting upon it. Times like this I miss my grandfather, but then again we all have moments when we stand on our own, not because we don’t have help but because of something deeper than that.
It is an issue of self-respect and of proving to yourself that you can go farther, that the only limits we face are those we place upon ourselves.
June, take my hand and walk with me.