The Nectar of the Gods: Love

There is a lot I could say, but I won’t

I think the assumption from reading the main title is that this entry will be about romantic love, but that would be wrong. This assumption is addressed by the thinner title, because there is a lot I could say, but I won’t.

This love, the love I hold closest to my heart and feel the deepest of any love I have experienced, blossoms from family. (Side note: if you want to gripe about clichés or tackiness, go somewhere else. If you haven’t felt it to know it, I truly do feel for you.)

Tonight my brother is coping with the reality of departing from his job. It was his choice, and I think he made the right one for himself, but no matter the justifications — it is painful.

The amount of love I felt for him, as I knelt by his bedside, I simply cannot put into words. A river runs deep inside me for my family, one that will flow into eternity, one that is visible in the colors of my irises. I never feel quite so primal as I do when I think of loving and protecting my family.

Emotional pain can translate into physical pain, and I could empathize with him so well because I have felt it myself. I wish I could wipe my hand across his forehead and absorb all pain from his body, but I know that’s not how it works. I could feel myself channeling my mother: what would she say? what would her expression be?

I’ve often dealt with the loss of a boyfriend, or nearly boyfriend (you know… those we are kind of dating but not committed but still feel like shit when it ends type of relationships). That emotional pain can feel so real. I remember my heart literally aching for months. But there is nothing, I mean nothing, that feels like when you see someone you love suffering. Helpless because, no matter what you say, they have to go through the journey of acceptance and rehabilitation alone. While his mind and heart guide him, I vow to always be by his side. We are very privileged to have the family we have, he knows it, I know it, and I am thankful that at least he has that beacon of light to bask in.

I came across a wonderful Latin saying in a book I am reading (The Secret History by Donna Tartt): nihil sub sole novum — nothing new under the sun “any action, in the fullness of time, sinks to nothingness.” (pg. 296)

A bit sobering, perhaps, but the gist does help: time does heal, it doesn’t heed the emotions of the observer, but it does dull the pain.

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