what ’til death do us part means…
my friend’s 98-yo-grandfather crying out “i love you g______ n____!” (his wife’s name) in his sleep, three years after she had died. until he himself died.
my grandmother’s soprano trembling on “let me call you sweetheart” at my grandfather’s funeral. it was their song; they had always danced to it, cheek-to-cheek.
my friend’s mother simply uttering, “ganito pala (this is how it is, or this is how it feels),” after her husband — my friend’s dad — died of stage 4 lung cancer.
what everyday, love means to lesser mortals…
having a friend pull back your hair and rub your back while you’re throwing up before a toilet (from a friend).
saying “i’m sorry.” and hearing “i’m sorry, too.”
waking up to discover that your cat has run outta litter, shat on your slippers in the laundry room, and pissed on your favorite pair of walking shoes, then thinking “thank god he picked mine (and not my brother’s),” and cleaning it all up.
yep. love is all around. romance and sweetness and undying regard, vomit and sorrys and cat shit.
(from FB entry 2012/10/07 at 9:20AM)
