I have often said that I want to know what love is. I was so sure that I’ve never felt it before. In light of recent incidents, I’ve come to the realization that I do know what it is. I’ve known for a long time.
Two weeks ago, I lost my grandmother, Grandma Brenda. She was my granddad’s 5th wife, but I knew of her outside of my actual biological grandmama. I remember that Grandma Brenda was pretty, quiet, and nice. I’ve never heard her raise her voice. At her wake and funeral, other people also thought that she was quiet. I have heard that when she did speak, she meant what she said. I also remember that often, Grandma Brenda would come over to bring me something, or just come to talk to my Grandmama (my mother’s mother; my granddad’s first wife). I thought it odd or weird then that the former wife had a friendly relationship with the current wife. I then learned that that was part of being an adult. Grandmama didn’t have a problem with Brenda, and Brenda didn’t have an issue with Grandmama. She (Grandmama) did have a problem with my granddad. I digress.
I remember some fond memories of my Grandma Brenda. She, at times, would pick me up from school and babysit me until my Grandmama got off work. One of my memories of her is giving me a cup of Blue Bell Vanilla ice cream. She would stir it up until it was smooth. As a kid, I often wondered how she got it to have that consistency. The things you learn as an adult. J I also remember her giving me Cheerios, with a little sugar sprinkled over them. I still eat them like that to this day. I remember once when I was younger, she took me to her job. AllState was having some kind of function. I believe it was bring your child to work day or something. I went with her. When she was laid off, she started her own baking business, “Brenda’s Cakes & ‘Moore’”. I would often go with her to cake shops and bakeries. I didn’t realize until I started typing this out, that I spent a lot of time with Grandma Brenda as a kid.
Just last week, I lost my uncle, Billy, to cancer. We had his funeral Monday. While there, I was thinking back to the Thomas family. On the screens at the funeral, it was showing a slideshow of pictures of him and the family. There was one picture where it was my grandmama, Lillian, Uncle Poochie, (Walter) Aunt Dorothy, and great-grandmother, Easter. All are now deceased. I remember being over at Murdear’s (Easter’s) house. Now there, I felt love. You were surrounded by it—immersed in it. There was no way that you could enter into that house and not feel the calming warmth that dwelled there. No matter who it was, you always felt that someone in that house genuinely cared for you. I didn’t know it at the time, and didn’t realize it until yesterday, but I already knew what love was. I’ve felt it damn near my entire life. My problem, along with a lot of other people is we have an idea of what love is. We may already have it, but don’t realize it when it is in front of our faces. I never had so many thoughts that made me smile until this past weekend.
You know, at times I think that I am incapable of that. Loving I mean. I just think that I’m so jaded at times, that I’m incapable of showing or receiving love. I blame myself for that. I’ve shut myself off and guarded myself. But the truth is, I want to love someone like I was growing up. Having someone know that I have their best intentions at heart. I will try to remember the love I had growing up and see if there's still a part of me left that is capable of showing that to others. I will try.
What kind of love are you looking for?