Introducing Alvar

So, I got married a while back, and then I had a baby. His name is Alvar and he was born November 7, 2013 and is just about the greatest thing ever. I'm off from work and get to spend my days getting to know him and we've become quite the pair of buddies. Sometimes we play together or I sing to him and take pictures. Well, this is what happened when I played "Wrecking Ball" for him. I want to just eat him up he is so cute. 

For fans of love...

I've always been a fan of love (as you know), but as a soon-to-be bride I'm even more enamored with it. Whatever, so what if i read wedding blogs and get teary-eyed seeing people in love and getting married because I'm thinking about Paul? 

My dear friend Josh (and my wedding photographer!) recently shot a wedding in Switzerland and the video of it is absolutely stunning: https://vimeo.com/38898832

check it out!

xoxox. 

Posted via email from The Love Story Thief

and here we are!

This is a picture with my lover right after we got engaged and got out of the water. Yup, he proposed to me in the ocean. He's originally intended to propose to me on this lovely pier at South Beach in Key West, but since I didn't know what he was planning, I went swimming instead. So he followed me in and got down on one knee in the water. Man, I love this guy so much. 

The most beautiful, perfect ring for me on the planet. Cloudy sapphire with clear sapphire accents by designer Megan Thorne.

I'm getting married.

And I couldn't be happier.

I don't post much on this here blog anymore, but I just can't keep the happiness from exploding inside of me. I'm marrying Paul Lambson who is the kindest, funniest, sweetest, handsomest man on the planet. No idea what day i get to marry him but hopefully someday soon this summer.

Love. It is the best.

I'm not there yet

I'm Not There Yet by The Love Story Thief Listen on Posterous

A love story about the Love Story Thief herself. Paul was interviewed by Alexis at StoryCorps and surprised the curator with this podcast/ Christmas present. Music is Girl by Das Racist used without permission (thanks @Heems).

Posted via email from The Love Story Thief

I'm not there yet

I'm Not There Yet. by The Love Story Thief Listen on Posterous

A love story about the Love Story Thief herself. Paul was interviewed by Alexis at StoryCorps and surprised the curator with this podcast/ Christmas present. Music is Girl by Das Racist used without permission (thanks @Heems).

Posted via email from The Love Story Thief

Magnets

Magnets by The Love Story Thief Listen on Posterous

D.C. to New Mexico. To Puerto Rico. To Guatemala. To New York. No matter how far away Sarah went, something always drew her back to D.C. and, more importantly, to Neel. Hearts like magnets.

Music credit: "Since I Fell for You" by Nina Simone

***Warning- there is one expletive in this interview, at 8:11.

Posted via email from The Love Story Thief

well, hello again, summer

Summertime rolls around, and here I am up late at night having a sudden hankering to blog. It probably has something to do with the rhubarb crumb cake cooling in the kitchen (thank you Smitten Kitchen). Or maybe the hum of the AC on this hot, hot night (seriously? a week ago it was sweater weather). Whatever it is, I'm itchy. or was that achy? I fell off my bike today, my entirely too overloaded self falling right off into the street when the grocery bag on the handlebar decided to get caught in the front tire. Right hand is a little bit sore and I wonder if it will impeded the rock climbing (Yes! It's what I do these days. i'm a climber).

In any case, I'm distracted and itchy to create, but since the cake is already made and it is too late to sew (the neighbors will complain because my sewing machine sounds like basketball dribbling) and I need to do more interviews for my podcast so I'll have something to edit... all that leaves me with is writing.

Have you ever considered joining the Army? No? me neither. Except that this last week or so I've suddenly really wanted to join. not for any noble reason, and as most of you know I'm pretty against the war(s). But I think that is maybe exactly why I've been thinking about it-- because it would be so strange and out of character for me to do it. The choices I've made in life have eliminated this as an option. And right now, i'm feeling kind of miffed about it. Don't get me wrong, i know I've made good choices and I'm happy here. but there are a series of choices that are no longer really options for me because of who i've become. i can't join the army. i can't move into a cave with a Bedouin in Jordan. I can't litter. I can't get a chest tattoo. I can't become a surgeon. I can't get addicted to crack and have an illegitimate baby. You might say that all of that is for the best, and I would agree. But there is that little part of me that still, would just like those things to still be options.

I think it's going to be an itchy summer and I wonder where it will take me. I am taking suggestions. 

Chipping a Little Bit Deeper

Chipping A Little Bit Deeper by The Love Story Thief Listen on Posterous

Late one night I ended up talking to my friend Lori about her boyfriend. As she told me about how much she loved his soul and loved constantly learning more about him, I could feel what a good beginning this relationship had. Even when they fight, even when she is upset, even though it is different from what she expected, this relationship amazes and excited her for their future together. And it amazes me too.

P.S. Happy engagement!

Music credit: The London Symphony Orchestra, "Sleeping Beauty Theme" (I just couldn't go with the Disney version).

Posted via email from The Love Story Thief

With the Beatles

I've already found a hole in Todd's supposed "complete" Beatles collection. So, thanks to YouTube I'm managing to dig up these songs one by one from With the Beatles (also released as Beatlemania! With the Beatles in 1964 in the North America with a few changes). I'm supposed to be getting ready for work, but keep getting distracted looking up these songs. Plus, they are catchy. And I can't find my pants. Which means it's a frantic half dance, half tearing my room apart in my underwear sort of morning.

Album 2: With the Beatles, November 22, 1663
(*means song was covered by the Beatles, written by someone else)
It won't be long- Rock out, Beatles! Am I hearing things, or does this have more umph in the music? I like.
All I've got to do
All my loving- Again, lyrics could have more to say, but i do so love the head bobbing quality of this song.
Don't bother me- This is how I'm beginning to feel about not finding my pants. Really, black pants? "I can't believe that she (my pants) would leave me all alone... I know that i'll never be the same, if I can never get her back again...But until she's here, please stay away don't come around (it's not a sight you want to see)"
Little Child- (unpacking my laundry basket yet again...)
*Till there was you- Paul McCartney, you were such an adorable stick of a boy back then. To think, this is one of the most romantic songs ever (at least, judging by the number of times it has been used in romantic comedy weddings). But I must say, there is something about it that just makes the heart flutter a little. Well played, Beatles, well played. I've also resigned myself to wearing my brown pants since the black ones are nowhere to be seen. sigh.
*Please Mister Postman- I swear Sesame Street covered this song. This one demonstrates a bit more complexity than the songs on the first album.
*Roll Over Beethoven- Chuck Berry cover. All i can think of is a Saint Bernard dog with drool.
Hold Me Tight-This song is terrible. Sorry.
*You Really Got a Hold on Me- Oh Smoky Robertson, what a smooth song. I'm noticing that I think my favorites on this album are songs the Beatles are covering by other artists. Hmm.
I wanna be your Man- still waiting to be convinced...
*Devil in Her Heart-
Not a Second Time- The songs by the Beatles are really... simple? simple. Catchy, but lack something in depth. But watch this video, Ringo is a darling dancer and i wish more men would wear speedos like John.
*Money (That's what I want)- Can't help but love this songs. Speaks the truth, don't it? Every so often, i have those thoughts that maybe i should just marry for money. Really, "love" hasn't worked out so well, why not do it for a little money? that is what I want. (just kidding. sort of)

So, at the conclusion of record #2... honestly, my faves were probably the ones that were written by others. But the Beatles did a fine job covering them. And I did a fine job finally covering myself and getting out the door (I hate clothing drama! and I have to do this all over again tomorrow... sigh).

What's so great about the Beatles?

Sure, I know their songs. Catchy little tunes. But, I've never quite gotten the obsession. So, thanks to my friend Todd, I'm listening to ever Beatles album in chronological order. It will take me a while. And I won't do it all at the same time. But, here we go.

Album 1: Please Please Me, March 22, 1963.
According to Rolling Stone, this album contained evidence of "[their invention of] the idea of the self-contained rock band, writing their own hits and playing their own instruments." According to Wikipedia, the Beatles had two singles (Please Please Me and Love Me Do) and had to come up with 10 more songs for the album, which they recorded in one day in 9 hours, 45 minutes. Lennon was sick, so they saved the rowdy Twist and Shout for the last song on the album to spare his voice. Please Please Me wasn't released in the US as an album until cds were invented and then as part of an anthology.

I saw her standing there- A classic, but not my favorite.
Misery- This is the cheeriest sad song i've ever heard in my life. I kind of dig it. I like the "I remember all the little things we've done..." downward progression.
Anna (Go to him) - I really like the guitar riff at the beginning of this song. I feel like this song was copied by a bunch of other oldies artists- it reminds me of a bunch of other songs.
Chains- Elvis?
Boys- Boring.
Ask me why
Please Please Me- the title track, hit single. Am I impressed by the brilliance of Lennon and McCartney yet, like the early adopters in the UK? Meh.
Love me do- nice harmony. but the lyrics could probably use a little more to them. Well, all the songs could be a little bit more complicated with their lyrics. Okay, 3rd time with the chorus, this song is boring me.
P.S. I love you

Baby it's you- who is singing here? that voice is kind of dreamy.
Do you want to know a secret- I love this song. It makes me bop my head in such a pleasant way.
A taste of honey- This is a song where the pageboy haircuts really came in handy.
There's a place- I swear they've been playing the same three chords the whole album.
Twist and Shout- You know, I have always confused the first few notes of Twist and Shout and La Bamba (are they even that similar? i have no idea). Nothing against the Beatles, but i always secretly wish it were La Bamba. Sue me, i saw the Richie Vallens movie on tv as a kid and it seemed so tragic, so obviously I was sold.

32.6 minutes later, album 1 is done.

Jail was never so sweet

Don't Give Up.

Don't Give Up. by The Love Story Thief  
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Don't Give Up..mp3 (20559 KB)

I met Anabela and Jorge recently on a trip.  As a love story thief, I was immediately drawn to them because of the tender way they were together. Constantly wandering off, content in their own world taking pictures and seeing things, together.  They way she looked at him and smiled, the way he was considerate of her, they seemed perfect together. But the reason I collect love stories is because there is always a story- every strong couple has challenges and mistakes that make their love more enduring as they pass through them.

Music credit to Carla Brunei "Tout Le Monde". I don't speak French, so i have no idea if the words are appropriate but the melody is.

Posted via email from The Love Story Thief

Oh, would you like to hear about my trip?

If not, stop reading now. BUT if you DO want to hear about my adventures in the Middle East (doesn't that just sound so exotic? There is no way I can maintain a sort of sophisticated blase attitude about this trip), please continue reading.

My friend Lori and I got to talking one day back in the summer. "I want to go on a trip," I said.
"I do too," said Lori.
"Where should we go?"
"Well, I have an aunt and uncle who are missionaries in Jordan. Maybe we could go there."
"Jordan?! I've always wanted to go to the Middle East! And to Petra, ever since watching Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade!"

And that is how we found ourselves at Petra in November. It was as easy as that. When I haven't traveled for a while, I forget how simple it is to just GO. Well, perhaps not simple, but once the decision was made, all of those other things that seemed like such insurmountable excuses became just things to take care of. Buying a plane ticket, while expensive, was easily bought with the help of miles saved over years of travel on Delta. I work these days in a job where I earn a comfortable living for a single, fairly frugal girl, so I didn't have to pinch pennies. I requested vacation time off, worked a few flexible holidays, and booked a tour with Intrepid Travel so I wouldn't stress myself (or my father) out by attempting to navigate a completely unfamiliar culture alone, and yet have a fun adventurous trip.  And that was it. Going is SO EASY, and I forget that. I need to remember how easy it is to travel, because it won't always be that way for me (hopefully, unless I am a spinster forever, in which case I would still have to find a cat sitter).




For a full set of pictures, go here.

We arrived in Amman, and from there wandered about to a few other surrounding cities to see some ruins and make some friends. Lori was the perfect travel companion because she is just about the friendliest person on the planet. And pretty too, so people constantly want to talk with her. For example, on the ferry between Jordan and Egypt, and Lori made friends with the half blind and deaf woman who spoke only Arabic sitting next to us bu smiling and practicing the very few words she knew in Arabic on her. Then the old lady got mad at us for some reason and kept giving us the evil eye (or was that her normal eye?) In any case, she turned her back on us, and we couldn't quite figure out why,  though we suspect it was because 1) we started talking to the Argentine man who sat in the same row and she was excluded from the conversation (he was a very nice man); 2) we came on the boat with covered hair because that boat also carried a bunch of people traveling home from Mecca and it seemed slightly inappropriate to walk around flaunting our seductive long blonde locks in front of everyone (read: unwashed and matted). But then the scarves wouldn't stay on very well and it was hot and it is so awfully hard to see peripherally with a scarf on (at least the way I had it on) that the scarves slipped around our necks, and the old lady turned her back on us; or 3)We smelled funny? We didn't offer to buy her a coffee? In any case, this woman was an anolmly, because any other person would've ended the boat trip with an invitation to Lori (and me, as her sidekick) to come home for dinner and offer marriage to their son. Oh man, Lori came home with so much jewelery that she received as gifts from admirers, and I almost came home with a herd of camels but decided to keep her for Bronson instead of selling her to a Bedouin as a wife (though she would've made a lovely Bedouin wife and would've probably succeeded in conveting every last one of them to the gospel in a matter of weeks).

In any case, we met a wonderful family that we called the Sharaf family, because did you know that a family is called after the name of the oldest child? Om Sharaf, we called the mother, and she was darling. My Iraqi friend Haifa was a refugee in Jordan for a few years and she got to be close with this family in Madaba, so when we arrived, we just called them up, told them we had gifts, and showed up at their door at 10 a.m. They were incredibly gracious, smiley, and funny. I couldn't have asked for better people to spend a few days with. While Om Sharaf and her husband didn't speak much English, their two sons did and acted as translators, though often with their own tales to add to the translation. From one of the sons, Odai, I collected the love story in the previous post.   




I could probably go through day by day, but I wouldn't want to bore you with a long post (I know how people are about reading things. So, you have the link to pictures, and I'll just mention some highlights and then post individual stories seperately as I think of them (thoughts of my trip have just been simmering in my head). We met with a group and made our way to the dead sea where we bobbed about int he water like little buoys and stung our eyes with salt water, then coated ourselves in dead sea mud for the cost of about $3 (compare this to a "Dead Sea mask" at any fancy spa, and you'll see that it was quite a steal. and way more fun).



We saw crusador castles, and Roman ruins, and of course the highlight were the Nabatean ruins of ancient Petra, which we saw by night by candlelight and the full moon, and then again in the rosy dawn the next day. 



I don't think I can say enough about how wonderful Petra was or my feelings about those smart ancient people who lived there. They had these amazing aquaducts and used caves as their homes. I get shivers just imagining the what life must've been like there, and what it would've been like to be Swiss explorer Johann Burckhardt in 1812 catching the first Western glimpse of ancient Petra. Oooh, shivers. All of it, covered in sand, and then wandering down the Siq and coming upon the outline of the Treasury, which is actually a tomb. All of the ancient carved caverns are actually tombs, just like the pyramids. What is it about creating a resting place for the body that will last throughout time? A form of immortality? The inhabitants of Petra certainly gained that, as did the pharoahs of the pyramids. Oh the Pyramids!!

How gigantic they are in real life! I mean, i always knew... but to see them in person and touch the stone is just another experience altogether. And to go inside... shivers!  I climbed inside od the Red Pyramid, down a deep, deep passageway.



Into the belly of the stone, where it was dark and the air weighty, the breath of countless other visitors hanging around. Or was that the ghost of the king whose body had been removed and whose soul lingered about, enticing those with fragile constitutions to envision their own demise there in the dark, in that small room at the bottom of so much stone... as you can tell, i am slightly claustraphobic. I had those same feelings of sparks of panic when I went scuba diving for the first time in the Red Sea. That breathing would be difficult, panic, and then complete surprise when I could actually breathe and could stop thinking about it. And I swam in a school of orange fish.

Oh yes, I went to the Red Sea! And the Sinai Peninsula! I stayed in a beach camp which is where life should be spent.  I saw Ramses II, and he still has hair and eyelashes after 4000 years of death.  I went on a cheesy river cruise on the Nile and saw belly dancing. A friend of ours bribed the guards at the Giza Zoo and so I got to pet a lion and hold a monkey. I slept in the desert and starred at the brilliant sky.



I ate the world's best falaffels,

was kidnapped by a Gypsy on a donkey (in the nicest way possible), climbed to the top of Mt. Sinai and communed with God a little bit myself up there.

I was taught the alphabet in Arabic, which I fully intend to learn for next time. I inhaled a lifetimes worth of cigarette smoke and warned everyone of lung cancer.
I picked up trash on the beach and wandered through the bazar, bargaining  for treasures. I watched sunrises that made me want to wake up early every day for the rest of my life.
And sunsets that deserved a standing ovation.

My tour group was made up of a delightful ark of characters, everyone of whom made the trip special and I liked immensely. The two weeks went by too quickly...

I am bitten again. The middle east is calling.

She Walks in my Blood

She Walks In My Blood by The Love Story Thief  
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She walks in my blood.mp3 (5567 KB)

I was in Jordan, visiting the home of some new friends. As I was asking the mother of the family about life and love in Jordan, one of the sons who was translating the conversation from English to Arabic and back told me his own story of being in love with an Indian girl. I had to record his story, but sadly, we were interrupted by a family member and couldn't continue the interview.  Though they are in love and he wants to marry her, his family forbids the relationship because she is not Muslim. His parents think he ended the relationship, but secretly, they are still together and he plans to marry her, no matter what.

Posted via email from The Love Story Thief

am i a grown up?

I turned 30 on Sunday. the month leading up to this momentous life event has been, shall we say, rather stressful. Lots of life things, and then just this melancholy that always creeps in around birthday time, which was extra strong for this decade anniversary where I leave my twenties behind.

Am I a grown up? Legally, yes, but we all know that means very little. I thought that by the age of thirty I would have lived a full life and be solidly traveling into middle age, with a spouse and multiple children giving me wrinkles. I find myself here, having lived a very full life with a start of a career, and feeling still like I have not yet been released from adolescence. And I would like to be. Blame it on the culture, blame it on my own expectations, but growing up is, most often, indicated by marriage and children. A home, perhaps, if you can afford it. In my religious surroundings, as a "young single adult" (though only for one more year! gasp!) I am separated from the "family ward" into a separate congregation, where the religious teachings are the same, but with the extra added benefit of activities to help me keep an active social life. Activities that, let's be honest, haven't changed much from the time i first became an adolescent at the age of 12 (more speed dating. less scrap booking). Of course, we all get an education and live life, i'm not saying that we are trapped here just waiting to be married, we do all continue onward into adulthood and responsibility for the most part. Bur for me, my own insecurities crept in here recently, mocking me with the whispers of-- you are thirty! but are you really a grown up without having a family? I think that thoughts like these lead to this somewhat frantic, constant social interaction where we remain constantly in motion, hoping to find someone to love or at least, by gum, not be lonely by spending time with other spinster friends.

Well, i am tired. I want to be a grown up. I don't want to have fun all the time, I don't want to feel the pressure of being social. i just simply want to be responsible, do my job well, work on projects that interest me, and spend time with smart friends. I don't want to date for the sake of dating, I don't want to go to parties where I "might meet someone". I just want to be me. You see, at the age of thirty, i know who I am, i know what I like. I am comfortable in my own skin. I am responsible and a grown up, and just tired of pretending that I'm not because I don't quite fit my preconceived notion of "growing up".

Accepting that, two days into thirty i am feeling calmer. This is my life and I have grown into it.

Freedom. Religion.

11:30 a few nights ago, I was lost on my bicycle coming home from my friend Victoria's birthday party. I found myself riding down Bedford Ave, where the bike path had been scrubbed clean by the Hassidic jews in the neighborhood. As it was Rosh Hashona, there were families with fathers in big fur hats and mothers in wigs and stockings, leading their tired little children home by the hand. The missing bike path had bee a source of contention between the very observant orthodox Jews and Brooklyn hipsters, resulting in an alternative path, where girls in skimpy summer dresses wouldn't be riding past on the Sabbath. Since I was lost, I had time to dwell on this particular conflict- on the one hand, the religious community that has lived in the neighborhood for a long time and requests respect for their standards; on the other, streets that are part of the community and should be accessible to all. (I won't get into the bike versus car culture argument here, though it also played a role). Who is right? The bike path was wiped out, but I still rode down the street (albeit not in very skimpy attire).

and of course, my mind turned to another religious conflict currently brewing.

As you may have heard (unless you've been hiding under a rock), there has been some election year controversy surrounding what has been called the "Ground Zero Mosque", which is more accurately called Park51, located two blocks from Ground Zero. For those of you who aren't familiar with new york, a few blocks is a short distance, yes, but can be a totally different neighborhood. I'm just sayin', if you are looking for sacred ground to remember 9/11 (which should be remembered), there are strip clubs that are probably closer and I'm sure some of the mourning families would find those offensive. So that's the location issue. It's not on ground zero, folks.

We live in a country that professes religious tolerance and liberty as one of the founding principles. But, as anyone who has taken a history class knows, religious freedom only applies for those in power. I could recount to you the history of the Mormons, who were driven from New York to Ohio to Illinois to Missouri, and out of the country for their religion, who were persecuted for their practices (especially polygamy) and to this day faces issues with communities protesting the building of sacred buildings. I well remember the conflict over the building of the Boston temple a few years ago, and the emotional angst it caused me-- that there were people who didn't understand and didn't want a Mormon building, which was meant for sacred, peaceful purposes, in their neighborhood. It felt so unfair, so hateful and intolerant. It was eventually built, thanks to politicians who stood up for private property rights, zoning laws, and religious freedom.

A few parallels if I may: mistrust of the unknown, suspicion of wanting to cause harm, generalizing an extreme minority to the majority-- mormons hate it when people think we mainstreamers are somehow affiliated with the FLDS polygamous groups in Texas, who seem so crazy and dangerous even. Most Muslims feel the same way when they see Americans and Europeans generalizing them all as terrorist sympathizers. Just because there are a few crazies, doesn't mean that everyone is. We can't go around punishing people because of the actions of a few or stereotypes. Yes, we have every right to protect ourselves from terrorist organizations. But what is the point if we take away the freedoms we are supposedly fighting to protect?

There are people who will put God above nation, and will live according to what they believe is the will of God. Thus, in a country with ever-increasing humanist tendencies, this is threatening, because what God requires (for example, obedience to strict health codes, such as not drinking alcohol) contradicts with societal norms (legal alcohol consumption at age 21 and social lubricant). For the most part, these two opposing viewpoints coexist in a "let's just ignore the ones who chose to live their lives another way" sort of manner, but sometimes that tension snaps, for instance over the same-sex marriage issue. Religious right? or human rights? and they can't always coexist. The state pushes on way, and the church pushes back, and usually, one gives in.

When it comes to different religions, this tension is stronger in some, weaker in others. Unitarian Universalists are constantly changing with societal values, accepting all as they come. Islam pushes back in some countries to the point where religious law becomes the law of the land. Can we allow that potential element? The Fox news pundits say no, we can't risk allowing Islam to influence the nature of this country and thus we must rid ourselves of them entirely. But I argue that we can't afford not to, if we believe we are protecting rights that belong to all people. I bel;eive that our freedom here and our commitment to human rights is strong enough that it won't get pushed over by extremist elements in Islam, but would rather push back (in a non-violent, educational way) to the extent that our"American" values of freedom and liberty and respect would make their way into the lives of American Muslims (which it already has) and then into other countries as well. It happened with Mormons and polygamy. It's happening slowly to eradicate child abuse and domestic violence in communities in southern utah that continue to be polygamists.

I know this is a long rambling post. Today, being the primary election day in new york, and just a few days after the 9th anniversary of 9/11, i feel strongly about this issue, and more than ever wish for us to ignore the fear and hate mongers among our politicians and pundits. They are playing the American people for fools with their own agendas. I don't pretend to know that their agendas are, but I do know that love conquers fear. I know too many good muslims living here to wish them to feel unwelcome. I know too many people of all faiths who are practicing their right to worship how, where and what they may, and people who are choosing not to worship anything because that is their right as well. If we refuse one group because there might be terrorists lurking in their midst possibly, we might as well just ban all religion right now, and all other organizations, because how can we know who we can trust?

1:53:51

I wanted to do something to prove that my body wasn't going to give out on me just because I am turning old. So, i ran a half marathon on labor day. My goal was to finish, and my second goal was to make it in about 2 hours. 1:53:51-- means I am a rock star, at least that's how I felt with my first runner's high as I sprinted the last 3 km to the finish line.

woot.

life is hard.

A new grave with just one date dots the landscape in a beautiful Charleston cemetery- August 19, 2010. The daisies from the Saturday funeral are probably mostly wilted on the funeral arrangement by this point, in the hot August sun, but they'll be replaced soon by the mother who carried this infant for nine months. No lilies here, those are funeral flowers not suited for a baby girl. She'll bring yellow and pink flowers, splashes of sunshine, possibly picked out by her two-year-old flower helper, who right now is only aware that she will get to water flowers and that people have been sad around her a lot these last few weeks.

This was supposed to be my new niece. Correction, this is my new niece, the beautiful Emilia. I did not meet her, none of us did, but I do not believe that precludes us from being her family. in fact, i firmly believe that she is an important little person, part of my sister's family forever, my niece forever, and that one day, we will all get to meet her. But for the time being, she is with my mother, my older brother who died at 7 months, grandparents, aunts, uncles, loved ones.

Life is hard. There is pain, there is heartbreak. She is the lucky one to move on from this state. I'm a little bit jealous. But yet. While I'm glad that she's going to miss out on broken bones, she also misses out on smelling flowers. She gets to miss out on being rejected by a boy she likes, but she also misses out on falling in love. She gets to skip the fights and hair-pulling over borrowing clothing from her sister, but she also misses out on growing up with her sister. And we miss out on her.

My heart aches for my sister. i can't understand what this must be like for her, to lose a baby and I ache for her, wishing to take on a portion of what she must be feeling, missing her baby. Through all of this, however, I am so, so grateful for her wonderful husband and the love and strength he offers. This is hard for him too, but seeing them together, i know that they will make it through. While there is a hole in my heart, it is filled with the peace that because of Christ, we can all feel peace, we can all be healed from this experience, and more than anything, we have an eternal family. That is the greatest comfort. I am grateful for this belief.

Love = Hugs

Nothing Quite Like Hugging by The Love Story Thief  
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Nothing quite like hugging.mp3 (23995 KB)

There is a lot that can be learned about love from little kids, as Meghan has discovered as the mom of a 16 month old daughter. Love is that look on her daughters face as she gets when she gets hugs. Isn't that we all need sometimes?

Posted via email from The Love Story Thief