I haven’t written for a week. I’m not sure why. This past week I’ve been busy, but hardly more than usual. Like my typical way of figuring out what I don’t know about myself, I’ll write it out and see if the answer comes.
I spent a day with each of my sisters in Lincoln, that was very nice–hard to get much work done though. I went with my younger sister last Wednesday and ended up picking her up and dropping her off at places often enough that I worked for less than an hour from three different coffee shops during the afternoon all before we had supper together at Panera Bread. It was fun though, and I was glad for the time to spend with her and talk about many things, just as I did with my older sister the next day.
This weekend my parents flew to LA for a business trip, leaving my sister and I home alone. We enjoyed several relaxing evenings with a few friends when we had them over to watch the Olympics one night; roast hot dogs and eat homemade ice cream the second evening; play card games and watch Mission Impossible the third; and meet at Starbucks to ‘catch up’ before taking a leisurely walk down the brick streets of our hometown, swinging in the park, and watching Pride and Prejudice on Sunday night. Whew! It was a full weekend.
Until Friday night as me and my friends sat around the warm fire pit enjoying banana split desserts I hadn’t realized how much I missed the girl friends I’ve grown up around. I’d hardly seen them at all since I left for Colorado a year ago. To be with them again, and another good girlfriend on Saturday, was so . . . homelike. Do you know that feeling? I find it hard to describe. I feel it when I’m around someone who makes me feel like everything’s okay . . . because I know they really care about me . . . it happens when I’m around a real friend, especially a real friend I’ve known for a long time.
Seeing our girlfriends again was a stark and welcome contrast to saying ‘goodbye’ to two other close friends–hoping, but not knowing, if or when we’ll see or know them well ever again. My sister and I can’t help but wonder about the future . . . and we’re happy to dream. She and I went through many emotional ups and downs last week. We’ve laughed and cried, wished (or rather prayed) on shooting stars, and we’re glad the week is past. Maybe that’s why I haven’t written. I haven’t known which way to lean, so I’ve gone neither and spent a lot of time talking with my family instead.
Maybe I should have left this quick little record of my week unpublished . . . except for this more worthwhile bit to share of what’s been on my heart.
“To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.”
― C.S. Lewis, The Four Loves