Expand Your Own Joy by Expressing Love:
You Never Know Whose Heart You Might Touch
It was a misty morning, and I was on a solitary walk along Lake Washington. I had just returned to the Seattle area after planning and participating in a Celebration of Life for my loving mother. She was 87 and had enjoyed a beautiful life with her husband (our dad) and six children, alert and happy to the end, so we weren’t questioning it.
It was wonderful celebration of her life and a beautiful tribute to her many talents, her sense of humor, and her gift of making everyone feel so loved and appreciated. She would have been so happy and honored at the many friends and family who attended and shared funny and memorable stories. My four sisters and I all wore her pink colored lipstick, nail polish, and shades of pink scarves, in honor of her favorite color. We were all wrapped in a cocoon of family love as we went through the days of dismantling her home and going through her things, sometimes laughing, sometimes crying.
But now, back at home, I was feeling the deep hole in my heart—the loss most of us who have lost our mother understand. In most cases, she is the first face that we see and is the source of love, food, and safety, upon our arrival. My relationship with my mother was integral to all my life experiences, always offering love, support, advice, and comfort. We talked on the phone daily even though I was in another city.
The impact and finality of death was just sinking in now that I was home. So, I had walked to my favorite bench. It is cradled in foliage and small trees just a few feet from the water’s edge, giving me a sense of some privacy on this drizzling day. I allowed the feelings and tears to flow, relieving some of the pressure in my heart.
Unexpectedly, a kind looking lady with her dog on a leash appeared. Embarrassed, I wiped the tears off my cheeks. Then I told her my mother had recently died in another city and I had just returned from her memorial. We had also dismantled her home and after returning, it just suddenly hit me that she was gone.
The women looked at me with gentle, compassionate eyes, and told me her husband of many decades had died earlier that year. I can’t even tell you what other words were exchanged with a stranger, but for the moment, we had shared one of life’s saddest and completely unalterable events, the loss of someone we deeply love.
There is no way around it. Grief has to somehow travel through us. But at that moment, her gentle presence comforted me, uplifted me, and helped me toward healing my own heart. Though I never saw her again, that profound brief experience of shared humanity has remained in my memory for ten years. I often wished I would see her again and thank her for that moment on an ordinary and rainy Seattle day that she had graced me with her presence.
My point of sharing this story is that I wonder how many times we are on autopilot, preoccupied with own concerns and thoughts, that we miss the opportunity to spread love. We never know whose heart we can touch, who may be going through difficulty, or simply to acknowledge each other with a smile and eye contact. “What the world needs now is love, sweet love, it’s the only thing that there’s just too little of,” as the song goes. Burt Bacharach just died a few days ago, but the song has never been more true or more needed. So spread a little love wherever you go. Its so easy and yet, so important. And as you do, you expand your own joy!
