Writer Gary Jennings said this: "Love and time, those are the only two things in all the world and all of life, that cannot be bought, but only spent."
I love that. And HOW I spend my love and time is what it is all about.
My work and interests require me to spend probably an inordinate amount of time in front of my computer. At least according to my wife Bev.
She and I were talking one day about death and funerals and what to do with each other's remains. I asked. "What will you do with my body? Burial? Cremation?"
She answered, "I think I'll just have you stuffed and propped up in your chair by the computer. That way when I walk through the room I won't even notice that you're gone."
I got the point - too much computer time. And how I spend my time and my love is all important.
The question I ask myself is this: "Do I generously and freely give love and time away - and especially to those closest to me?"
Charles Francis Adams was the United States ambassador to Great Britain during the Lincoln administration. He had the habit ofkeeping a daily diary. He also taught his son Brooks the value of journaling his activities in a diary.
One memorable day, eight-year-old Brooks recorded, "Went fishing with my father, the most glorious day of my life." It must have been a glorious day, for the next forty years Brooks repeatedly mentioned it in his diary. It became a life-long memory.
His father also wrote about the fishing trip. His own diary on that pivotal day for his son reads, "Went fishing with my son; a day wasted."
He didn't get it. That one single day he generously and freely gave love and time away to Brooks may have been the one of the most important days of his son's life. Did he feel that, as a United States ambassador, his time was too valuable to be "wasted" with his children? History seems to show that a fishing trip with his son paid huge dividends in Brooks' life.
A nice song to relax on a rainy Sunday morning ....
Some say love, it is a river that drowns the tender reed. Some say love, it is a razor that leaves your soul to bleed. Some say love, it is a hunger, an endless aching need. I say love, it is a flower, and you its only seed.
It's the heart afraid of breaking that never learns to dance. It's the dream afraid of waking that never takes the chance. It's the one who won't be taken, who cannot seem to give, and the soul afraid of dyin' that never learns to live.
When the night has been too lonely and the road has been to long, and you think that love is only for the lucky and the strong, just remember in the winter far beneath the bitter snows lies the seed that with the sun's love in the spring becomes the rose.
