“But encourage one another daily, as long as it is called Today, so that none of you may be hardened by sin’s deceitfulness.” Hebrews 3:13
fortunate is a man who loves and is loved in return. still a man is lucky to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all. but then again, man is most blessed to be loved… and appreciated at the same time.
young love – sweet, carefree, simple. MJ once sang: they try to tell us we’re too young… and yet, we’re not too young to know, this love would last though years may go. old standard as it may sound, it still happens. young love blossoms in a burst of colors and such sweet scent that nothing around it matters. not even the worms underneath, nor the bees and butterflies that hover above. only the flower exists. a lot like love. and it is all that the eyes can see.
but after a while, people get easily distracted and turn out of focus. not only with lovers. even parents with their kids; grown children with their aged parents; busy bosses with their subordinates. a friend with a friend. we forget they exist, so we fail to express how important they are. simply because we look past them. therefore, we don’t appreciate.
in all instances, i realize that what is worse than the absence of love, is the absence of appreciation.
we often hear declarations of undying love and praise during a wake or a funeral. how much the dead will be missed. how much he was loved. but you’ll be surprised how many of them appreciated his presence when he was still alive. perhaps it is only after death that he is given the attention he might have yearned for all his life. only then, it is too late.
so while our hearts are still beating, let’s try to express our appreciation however we think possible.
hug…kiss…send flowers…text…call…watch movies together…spend the day off together…post something on the wall…write a poem…sing a song…drive around…watch the sunset together…cook that favorite dish…smell the roses…together. there are zillions of ways. but what matters is to let them know…
just say it.
for love is but a word, until we give it away.
“Let us be grateful to people who make us happy; they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom.” – Marcel Proust