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Spread the Love This Week!

Having found myself dreadfully ill this past week, I now find myself rather contemplative in the aftermath. Much of our fair Midwestern city, it seems, is locked in the grips of a vicious cycle of the stomach flu, which is then followed by an immediate case of respiratory illness that moves directly to the lungs. Upon recovering from my gastrointestinal symptoms, I, too soon developed the congested, hacking cough that appears to be the telltale sign of this "disease's" killer lasting repercussions. I'd go to inhale to tell my family how much better I was feeling but catch my throat and wind up in a fit of coughing. I just couldn't win. This, after days of no food and almost no water in my system, and I was back down in no time.

I tell you all of this not (merely...) to gain your sympathies but to set the landscape of my mood for today's post, that of the contemplative writer, mother, lover, friend. You get the idea.

On Sunday mornings, I often wake in time to watch whatever portion of CBS Sunday Morning is left. It airs from 8:00 am to 9:30 am in our market, and I think this particular morning show still has a special brand of television journalism that exists nowhere else on television today. Charles Osgood, with his trademark sendoff line, "I'll see you on the radio," is a soothing preamble to my Sunday morning routine. When scheduling permits, I lie in bed and watch, enrapt, often grabbing a pen to jot down the name of the movie or book being reviewed, etc.

Well, today, just at the end, when Ben Stein, one of many who wrap up the show with a thoughtful commentary, really got me. Ben was telling about how his wife had lovingly cared for their 16 year old dog until she had sadly died within the last week. Then, his thoughts turned to her. The love of his life. This week they would celebrate their 41st Valentine's Day together. They were flashing pictures of her on the screen. At this point, I was actually already out in the kitchen and had just grabbed the carton of half and half from the fridge. The door of the fridge was just set to close as he was telling this story, and Ben Stein's droning monotone of a voice had me in such a trance that I allowed the door to slam right on my pinkie's fingernail! Man, did that hurt! I stood there in tears, brought on by a mixture of pain and emotion on a Sunday morning.

Ben had implored us to celebrate the ones we love while we have them. And to think of those (like our parents, perhaps) who have already lost the deepest loves of their lives and may never love like that again.

So, I'm here to pay that message forward, my friends. Spread that love this week. Let the ones you love know it. Do something nice for them to illustrate just how much they mean to you. And give the ones who may be a little lost without their former loved ones a little extra love, too. They may need an extra hand from someone like you. Or a card. Or some cookies.