I was told once that love is patient, but anyone who has held vigil beside the sick or dying knows just how impatient love can be. Pushed by impending loss or fear love can be a frantic, frenetic, grasping to hold on. A visionless quest whose guideposts are only memories. I remember how you laugh, I remember how you smile, how you did a million little things. We speak these things at funerals, we put them in our eulogies, we hold them in our albums. A million reasons why we love, a million reasons to never let go, a million ways to hold and be held.
I was told once that perfect love casts out all fear. I believe that this is because in the face of danger love pushes fear aside in it's desire to protect. I will face any fire, and flood, all the demons of hell to keep you safe, to hold you from harms way. Love is strong that way.
Love is paradoxical. When we feel at our weakest, those weeping, gnashing, fear of loss moments, those moments when we are rushing to protect with weak knees and trembling arms, this is where it is strongest. It is in these moments when we feel all is at a loss, that loves proves that even death is not strong enough to conquer it. Love will keep on loving.
