The Power of Love

Helen Keller once said, "What we have once enjoyed we cannot lose. All that we love deeply becomes a part of us." I found this quote in March of this year when I opened up a library book. Someone had written it on the back of a Wal-Mart receipt, then used it for a bookmark. Ever since then, I have grown quite fond of that wrinkled receipt, and I have never been able to throw it away. Helen Keller believed in the power of love and happiness. And, someone else believed in it, too, since he or she felt compelled to write it down. Then, that person left it behind, possibly so that someone else may find comfort in this wonderful quote. Now, it is my turn to leave these words behind for others. That, my friends, is exactly what you are reading.

This time last year, I was recovering from surgery. I remember thinking, "This has been the worst year of my life. 2009 will be better! 2009 will be our year... I just know it." Hindsight is a funny thing, isn't it? Some days, I look back and think that I was a complete idiot for believing that making it through a rough year meant that the following year would be so fantastically wonderful that it would completely make up for the struggles I had in 2008. Other days, I wonder if the blind optimism I had a year ago was simply another quality that one loses as his or her youth begins to fade away. While 2009 may not have held all that I'd hoped it would, in some strange, twisted way, it did bring to my life things that I could have never seen coming. And, as I've come to learn, people tend to learn far more from the unexpected than the expected. When we cannot plan our reactions in advance, we are left with no other option but to act impulsively, relying on our instincts to make it through. Because of this, we allow others to see the truest forms of ourselves. When this happens, it no longer matters how much money we have in our bank accounts, what designer we are wearing, what college degrees we do or do not have, whether or not we are having a good hair day, or what inappropriate thing we may have said last week. At this moment, the only thing that matters are the contents of our hearts, which we put on display for the world to see. These are the moments that forever change who we are. These are the moments that transform our nightmares into our realities. These are the moments that force us to face our deepest fears. Then, and only then, do we become the people that we were truly meant to be.

At 12:01 A.M. on January 1st, 2009, I honestly felt as if I understood the ways of the world. I had just spent an entire year fighting battles with my health, and by the standards of most, I came out of these battles victorious. I failed to remember that every war that has ever been fought in the history of human existence was also accompanied by hard times, and when these wars ended, the hard times always continued. When one battle is won, another battle begins. The worst kind of battle, though, is the one that we have with ourselves, because even when we win, we lose, also. I was reminded of this on January 6, 2009, when I lost someone that meant the world to me. Just five days before, I'd felt on top of the world. Then, I watched that very same world crash down all around me. My hero was gone, and because of the way that he died, I did not know who to blame for taking him away. The days following his death seemed unreal. I felt like I was stuck in a crazy nightmare, just waiting for someone to wake me up. Everything just happened so quickly, though, and I started to panic, wondering if I had waited too long to speak up and tell everyone that none of this could even be possible. I desperately searched for some kind of hidden pause button that would allow me to just breathe, even if only for one second. Nobody ever woke me up from that nightmare. I never found the pause button. And, as it always does, the world continued to turn.

Because I could not change the past, my only choice was to move forward. But, every morning when I woke up, the first thing that I thought about was how long it had been since I'd seen him last. Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months, and without warning, something changed. One day, I woke up, and it was not until hours later that I realized that I did not start my day reminding myself of the number of days that had passed since his death. That day, my first thought had been of how gorgeous it was outside. The sun was shining, the breeze was warm, and the birds were chirping. You see, it no longer mattered to me how many days had passed since his death, because on that particular day, I saw him all around me. I remember sitting on the porch, enjoying the beautiful afternoon, and I decided to read for a little while. When I opened the book, something fell out. I picked it up, and just when I was about to throw away what I assumed to be garbage, I read the quote on that receipt. Now, I do not think I will ever know who left that in the book, but I do believe that I was meant to read it exactly when I did. That is the power of love.

Not long after Brother Larry's death, another person that I loved dearly was diagnosed with cancer. For 8 long months, I watched him suffer in pain and agony. Like I, Uncle Randall also loved Brother Larry very much, and there is not a doubt in my mind that Brother Larry was by his side the entire time he fought for his life. I could feel his presence there. Through the chemo, radiation, medications, pain, hospitalizations, and the other horrors that Uncle Randall faced during those 8 months, he never once questioned why he had to go through something so unfair. He was courageous. He was strong. He trusted God's will for him. On the morning of August 25, 2009, my 22nd birthday, he looked up at the ceiling from his hospital bed with outstretched arms and took his last breath. I know that when he raised his hands up, it was to grab the hands that were reaching down to him. And, I know exactly who those hands belonged to. That is the power of love.

The day before my birthday, I attended the funeral of a young woman that had made a bigger impact on the world in 23 years than most people could do in 100. She lived her life the way that we all should: without fear, reservation, or time wasted on worry or regret. She never categorized life's events as fair or unfair. Instead, she took it day by day, crossing each bridge as she got to them. She appreciated the simple things, like Sunday afternoon drives, laughing until it hurt, the way the sunlight reflected off of the lake, and how the leaves changed colors as each summer turned into fall. She loved her friends more than anything in the entire world, and she was loved just as much in return. I watched those closest to her go through agonizing pain as they tried to cope with the idea of living life without her. I saw them come together as they grieved, forming a bond so strong that nothing will ever be able to break it. Inside each of their hearts, one can find a piece of Callie. When they are all together, those pieces of her become whole again. Wherever they are, she is, too. This is the power of love.

Until now, I thought that throwing away that silly receipt with those beautiful words written on the back meant that I no longer needed it. I now understand that words that powerful are useless sitting inside of a jewelry box. It is my turn to leave them for someone else to find.

"A brief candle; both ends burning
An endless mile; a bus wheel turning
A friend to share the lonesome times
A handshake and a sip of wine
So say it loud and let it ring
We are all a part of everything
The future, present and the past
Fly on proud bird
You're free at last."
-Charlie Daniels


In Loving Memory of Dr. Larry D. Morris, Randall Boggs, and Callie Wright