Dear Lisa

You posted this nearly a month ago. I've gone back and read it several times and meant to leave a comment. But didn't. I stared at the blinking cursor in the upper left hand corner of the comment box, thinking only of how overwhelming your life feels to me. You are a caregiver and nurturer of the highest degree. You share your home with multiple generations of family. You are generous in heart, mind, and spirit. And with all of that running around in my brain, I lost track of why I was leaving a comment, just what was it I wanted to say. Now that I'm less distracted and have had some time to think, I have discovered that when I feel most loved is really very simple. I find that feeling in the quiet. In the comfortable, intimate silence between two people. When words are not necessary. When your eyes meet and you smile. Then you go back to reading your book. Or tuck your child into bed. Or wave goodbye from the other side of the window. Kiss a cheek in passing or wipe away a tear. Hug like you really mean it. Love. It lives in the quiet spaces.