The Evening In Question ~ Early Evening Thoughts

Even after the day today ~ I will put a few words down about my “evening out.” In the previous post I made mention of the fact that I had to be told that the invitation was actually a date. At my age? You’ve got to be kidding…but it was not just getting together, it actually was a date.

This required some thought and planning. What does one wear on a date…not having been on one for quite sometime. What is planned for the evening, or not planned?

Finally, common sense took hold and I decided that I would continue to be myself and allow the evening to unfold as it wanted to unfold.

We met and started talking ~ and we shared, laughed, talked until finally we realized what time it was. We had been sharing and talking for almost five hours! It certainly didn’t seem like that at all. Fortunately, I didn’t have to get up in the morning to work. We parted ways ~ however ~ only for a bit. We are getting together for another date next week ~ and I will certainly have more to share on that one.

However ~ it’s wonderful to find someone who is willing to share themselves and be open about life and living. It’s delightful to find someone who has been at some of the crossroads I’ve been at and who knows what deep decision making is all about.

What the evening gave me was a deep appreciation of this person, a better understanding of them ~ and belief that no matter what, we will have a friendship that survives.

And yes ~ the evening ended with a very warm embrace…very warm.

Lightning May Strike ~ Early Evening Thoughts

I have been invited out for the evening. As one of my friends put it when the invitation was made: “Uh, WD ~ that’s a date.” So, I am attempting to get ready for a … um, uh … date. Do they really call it that at my age? I will provide details later ~ possibly MUCH later. (So Bodhi, you might have to wait!!)

Was it out of the blue? Yes. Was it a delightful surprise? Yes. Am I prepared? No. Will I have a good time? Who knows ~ but knowing me, there will be some stories to go with it.

In the mean time, I am prepared for a delightful evening ~ with someone I know, and have known as an acquaintance for some time now.

What will we do? It’s not my evening to plan. Will I let you know all the details? That depends.

—more tomorrow

And Yet, It Does Matter (end) ~ Early Morning Thoughts

Yesterday’s post ended with the idea that the The symbol is NOT the thing symbolized. The map is NOT the territory. The word is NOT the thing. And this is very important as individuals. I am not a label, I am not a word, I am not a symbol. I am me.

Several years ago, I performed in a delightful theatrical adaptaion of Author Robert Fulghum’s All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten. In once section (borrowed from one of his other books) he imagined a party where people were exchanging business cards. Each time “he” was handed one, he would look at it, then ask ~ “But, what do you do?” The reactions in the script and from the audience was ~ to say the least ~ delightful. Finally, he had this to say about what he did when he got himself a new business card:

What counts is not what I do, but how I think about myself while I’m doing it. In truth, I have a business card now. Finally figured out what to put on it. One word. ‘Fulghum.’ That’s my occupation. And when I give it away, it leads to fine conversations.

What I do is to be the best Fulghum I can be. Which means being a son, father, husband, friend, singer, dancer, eater, breather, sleeper, runner, walker, artist, writer, painter, teacher, preacher, citizen, poet, counselor, neighbor, dreamer, wisher, laugher, traveler, pilgrim, and on and on. I and you—we are infinite, rich, large, contradictory, living, breathing miracles—free human beings, children of God in the everlasting universe. That’s what we do.

And there it is ~ no labels necessary. No trying to figure out “what” someone is or is not. And that’s what I’m striving for ~ to be me…the best WD I can be.

OK TZ, it took me longer than 100 words (I delighted in the email challenge however!)

But I would like to close this post with a new (to me) quote:

Robert Fulghum in his book Maybe, Maybe Not:

I do not believe that the meaning of life is a puzzle to be solved. Life is. I am. Anything might happen. And I believe I may invest my life with meaning. The uncertainty is a blessing in disguise. If I were absolutely certain about all things, I would spend my life in anxious misery, fearful of losing my way. But since everything and anything are always possible, the miraculous is always nearby and wonders shall never, ever cease. I believe that human freedom may be stated in one term, which serves as a little brick propping open the door of existence: Maybe.

And Yet, It Does Matter (2) ~Early Morning Thoughts

Yesterday, I vented my “orientation fatigue” about people who feel it’s absolutely essential to label everyone according to orientation ~ straight, gay, bi-sexual, non-sexual, waffle-sexual, buy-sexual and whatever. There were the “ladies” of “The View” trying to determine if Hugh Jackman was gay (suggesting because he had married a less than attractive (!?!) wife he was suspect), there were a number of blogs determining if Enrique Iglesias was gay because he dared perform at the largest gay nightclub in Europe (not for free I can assure you) and sang one of his signature songs to a patron on-stage. My feeling was (and still is) “WHAT DOES IT MATTER?”

A lot.

After I finished quelling the desire to yell and become a hermit, I realized what was really going on was something that I work hard NOT to do. All these instances were simply a desire for labels. Didn’t matter if the label was/is accurate or not, the important thing was/is to get the label. And this is why it does matter ~ regardless of orientation.


I was trying to figure out why the labels of today are so important. In thinking about some of the labels over time and I was struck by how many of them were and are used to define the relationship with a supposed “enemy.”

A time tested method of establishing such a relationship is by constantly referring to “the enemy” with some sort of derogatory label. Depending on your age and what you read or were taught (or believe), the labels you know of might be: Nips, Krauts, Slopes, Monkeys, Panheads, Gooks, Commies, or Ragheads. Soldiers aren’t the only people who employ this technique. Hate groups label the enemies of the week as Nigger, Kikes, Jew Bastards, Half-Breed, Witch, etc.

And soldiers and bigots aren’t the only ones to do this. The use of derogatory labels is a widespread technique for legitimizing the mistreatment of others. From grade school to Columbine to the NFL, our culture refers to those who are “not accepted as non-enemies” as Wimps, Freaks, Homos, Faggots, Pussies, Retards, Breeders, Fag Hags, Fag Stags, Sluts, Celebutard, Bitch, C–t, Redneck, etc. Someone, somewhere has, I’m sure, a more complete list if you care to look it up. I’ll leave the list at that – and pardon me while I sanitize my keyboard.

And if you question my use of Columbine, here is the opening paragraphs of an article from The Denver Rocky Mountain News – July 25, 1999:

At Brooke Gibson’s high school, nasty nicknames were the norm. “Nigger lover” was what they called her when she listened to rap. “Dyke” when she cut her blond hair short.

At the school her sister Layn attended, nicknames might poke fun at someone’s shirt color, but never their skin color or sexual orientation.

It was the same school.


I realized that the label(s) make some people comfortable. Much as the old country fellow said: “Yur either fer us or agin us!” And there it is ~ labels define who is “fer” us or “agin” us. If Hugh Jackman marrying a less than attractive woman (according to “The View”) makes him suspect as being gay or Enrique Inglasias performs at a gay night club makes him gay ~ then that helps define the “group” and where they belong. But then, according to S.I. Hayakawa’s Language in Thought and Action:

The symbol is NOT the thing symbolized. The map is NOT the territory. The word is NOT the thing. Most societies systematically encourage … the habitual confusion of symbols with things symbolized. For example, if a Japanese schoolhouse caught fire, it used to be obligatory in the days of emperor-worship to try to rescue the emperor’s picture (there was one in every schoolhouse), even at the risk of one’s life…. The symbols of piety, of civic virtue, or of patriotism are often prized above actual piety, civic virtue, or patriotism.

In one way or another, we are all like the student who cheats on his exams in order to make Phi Beta Kappa; it is so much more important to have the symbol than the things it stands for.

So, (he said with a lot of trepidation) if the word is not the thing ~ why does it carry so much weight and/or power to hurt or destroy?
—more tomorrow

And Yet, It Does Matter ~ Early Morning Thoughts

I read quite a few blogs ~ actually a LOT of blogs. It’s always interesting to see what people are talking about, what concerns people on the internet … as anyone who reads blogs can tell you ~ sometimes it’s funny, sometimes its somewhat frightening and then there are the days where irritation lands similar to a cartoon anvil.

A number of the blogs were all “a-twitter” over a discussion the ladies (a term I might …no, I won’t go there) of “The View” had whether Hugh Jackman ~ known as Wolverine in the X-Men series ~ might be gay or not. Evidently no definite conclusions were drawn…at least by the time of the commercial break. (please note: Rosie was no longer on the show – and these were women who usually talk over each other doing news topics) No conclusions were reached other than that men who marry women not stunningly attractive, are considered possibly gay. (what a lovely thing to say about Hugh Jackman’s wife!!)

Then – while in London Enrique Iglesias performed ~ neither by surprise nor free ~ at one of the Europe’s largest gay nightclubs. He was doing his usual songs, and came to one of his signature pieces titled “Hero.” At this point, he usually brings a woman up on stage and sings to her. In this case, he called up one of the bar’s male patrons and sang the song. A large number of blogs went beyond “a-twitter” to almost hysteria…(including some that should know better) although any performer will tell you ~ you play to the audience you have. Ask Bette Midler.

To make the day complete probably should have involved a phone call from D&D, but instead I got a call from someone who might be a delightful replacement for them. I was regaled with a complete description of a movie he had just watched and had to listen to an extended description of the people in the movie and their possible orientation. (I have watched movies with this person before ~ this is nothing new)

I’m going to be politically incorrect here ~ but at this point I was, frankly, suffering from “orientation” fatigue. After the 5th time of trying to convince my movie reviewer and performer sexual preference psychic, I gave up and gently but firmly ended the conversation.

I thought about why all this seemed to be going on, and why it mattered at all. I literally wanted to go out in the middle of the complex and yell ~ “WHAT DOES IT MATTER?”

My point is talent is talent is talent. If it’s good it needs NO labels. If it’s good it will cross lines, orientations and even – Lord help us – party affiliations. I don’t spend my time while watching a movie wondering what someone does in their off-time. If the performance is terrible I will 1) regret that I’m there and have been known to 2) count patterns on wall paper or buttons on what someone is wearing to keep my mind and/or body from falling asleep.

As a slight aside, my technical theater instructor in college told about having to design a really, really awful show. He painted grape clusters on the wallpaper of the set ~ only each cluster had a different number of grapes. His rational was that perhaps the audience might make it to intermission before they finished counting the grapes.

After I finished quelling the desire to yell and become a hermit, I realized what was really going on was something that I work hard NOT to do. All these instances were simply a desire for labels. Didn’t matter if the label was/is accurate or not, the important thing was/is to get the label. And this is why it does matter ~ regardless of orientation.

As I’ve written about before, labels are very handy for boxes, shelves and sock drawers, but deadly when applied to people…blonds are dumb(er), geeks wear glasses, people who appear smart or work hard are nerds…to the racial, orientation and intelligence labels designed to either hurt or put people “back where they belong.”
–more tomorrow

–the intro notes to Enrique Inglesias “Hero”
–Twilight Zone picture unfortunately had no credits or year
–grape cluster picture
–fire picture

Male Or Female ~ Only The Gender Genie Knows For Sure

Calling All Bloggers/Writers:

Is your writing masculine or feminine? Did you ever wonder? Does it really matter?

Here’s a quick assessment tool that really is quite fun. I had a great chuckle at the results.

Find something you have written (it’s best if it’s over 500 words in length – supposedly it will be more accurate!) and click —>HERE<—. There is a box to paste what you've written – then ask for the analysis – and the first screen looks like this (click on the image to see larger picture):

Which is followed by a detailed analysis of the words used:

Makes for some interesting thinking….

Not The TV Fear Factor ~ Early Morning Thoughts

“Confronting our feelings and giving them appropriate expression always takes strength, not weakness.
It takes strength to acknowledge our anger, and sometimes more strength yet to curb the aggressive urges anger may bring and to channel them into nonviolent outlets. It takes strength to face our sadness and to grieve and to let our grief and our anger flow in tears when they need to. It takes strength to talk about our feelings and to reach out for help and comfort when we need it.”
–Fred Rogers
The World According to Mr. Rogers.

I picked up that quote a couple of days ago.
I realized that I was sailing/floating in some uncharted waters (for me) and in order to reach the shore facing some things that have been eating at me was the only way to deal with them. Otherwise, I would continue to wander like the Israelites in the desert…and frankly, I don’t have a generation or two to wander as I wonder.

One of the most difficult feelings I have to deal with is fear. Not the monster in the closet type fear, but the “what if” kind of fear. This is a really insidious kind of fear as it may or may not have basis in actual fact. It also is the fear that can keep me from dealing with unpleasant situations. I grew up in a “peace at any cost” family and I made choices that transferred that into my own life. If I’m not alert to it, I will make decisions that allow the path of least resistance on anyones part. Of course, that’s occasionally not the best choice to make.

This is a somewhat fun party game (after a couple of drinks, of course!). Lay a plank down on the ground and ask people to walk across it blindfolded. Then – while the blindfolds are still on – raise the plank one or two inches at one end, and again ask them to walk the plank. You’ll find that a lot of them won’t do it – their perspective makes them fearful that they will fall. Even though it isn’t high at all. It’s the perspective that makes the difference.

I’m dealing with D&D (when am I NOT dealing with them!) and their “problems” with Toby and our friendship. I am going to have place myself in a position of creating some boundaries that I didn’t want to have to draw. As I was looking at the situation earlier this evening, I was struck with the realization that I had the wrong perspective.

Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, creator of Sherlock Holmes, reportedly told of a time when he climbed into a taxicab in Paris. Before he could utter a word, the driver turned to him and asked, “Where can I take you, Mr. Doyle?”

Doyle was flabbergasted. He asked the driver if he had ever seen him before.

“No, sir,” the driver responded, “But this morning’s paper had a story about you being on vacation in Marseilles. This is the taxi stand where people who return from Marseilles always come. Your skin color tells me you have been on vacation. The ink-spot on your right index finger suggests to me that you are a writer. Your clothing is very English, not French. Adding up all those pieces of information, I deduced that you are Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.”

“This is amazing!” the writer exclaimed. “You are a real-life counter-part to my fictional creation, Sherlock Holmes.”

“There was one other clue,” the driver said.

“What was that?”

“Your name is on the front of your suitcase.”

If only all clues were that obvious! However, many times they ARE that obvious if I will only take the time to look for them. In dealing with D&D and the current situation, I missed that clues that the problem was not TOBY (more on that tomorrow) but rather what THEY were expecting to occur in the situation and what they were expecting MY reaction to be (of course, in line with theirs!). Remember the false luggage tag of other peoples expectations?

There is also another tag people will try and put on your luggage. Those who are familiar with PAC will recognize “get back where you belong.” This tag doesn’t allow for changes on anyones part – and makes an attempt to place someone back into whatever category someone else has placed them.

This can be difficult. However, along with the help someone else is able to give, or what we can find within ourselves – help may come from unexpected sources. The quote from Mr. Rogers is an example of that.

This is a temptation I can fall into very easily. It is almost second nature for me to worry about “what if” until it becomes “that’s what’s going to happen.” Sometimes what I have worried about will happen (after all, the hypochondriac’s tombstone DID read: “I told you I was sick.”). But more often than not, it doesn’t happen that way – unless I create a situation where that’s the only outcome possible.

–What does all this have to do with D&D, Toby and other events in my life? To misquote Paul Harvey – “Tomorrow, the rest of the story.”

–fear painting

The Cowardly Closet ~ Late Night Thoughts

In all honesty, I have been following the hypocrisy on both sides of the Imus affair,and had actually started a fairly lengthy essay on my thoughts. I took a break and started reading blogs that I follow each day, when I read today’s post at A Spider’s Web in Thornton Park.

I felt as if I had been hit in the stomach with a fist. My sadness gave way to anger and then back to sadness. Spiders blog has been an incredible light in my world. He’s just gone through heart surgery, is facing treatment (possible surgery) for cancerous tumors – and now this. All caused by anonymous scum that don’t have the guts or “cojones” to come out their own closet to say or do what abhorrent things.

Yes, I deliberately used the phrase “out of the closet.” To me, these people that hide behind anonymity are closeted bigots that would probably be completely comfortable hiding behind white sheets and pointed hats – or wearing green shirts with a swastika on the sleeve.

I have re-printed his entire post. Be sure to read it completely – then my statements at the beginning will make sense.

From A Spider’s Web In Thornton Park

I had written the first part of this blog on Tuesday Night…

I just got back from a wonderful dinner with some friends tonight and my phone rang. It had been ringing all night long at dinner – but I didn’t answer it because it kept coming up Private Number and I didn’t want to take a call from an unknown person at dinner. So it rang again when I got home. I answered it and no one spoke on the other end… just sounded like a car radio on the line so I hung up. A couple of minutes later it rang again… and this voice said “Brett”… Has the cancer killed you yet? I said “No” and they said, “Damn it God – let the cancer kill him – let the cancer kill him” and they hung up.

Now, I can only assume that this is an individual who read my blog and I KNOW it is not any of my readers – I can only assume that it is the same person who was harassing me last year over my letters to Patty Sheehan. Only my blog buddies and my closest friends know about my illness – so it must be someone who reads or has read my blog.

So, gentle phone caller – sorry to disappoint you, but you did not upset me. I am not a basket case nor am I bothered. Actually, I just feel sorry for you… that something is making you do things like this. Calling me, telling my employer about me, none of that will make me die. I am too strong, too mean and too stubborn to die just because you want me to. Nope, sorry – someone greater than both of us will make that decision.

By the way… have a nice day and just remember – karma is a real bitch…

Then on Wednesday, I get this comment on an old post…
Um, yeah, hi, this is Death. I’m still gunning for Spider. I think the cancer will get him.

Death said this on April 11th, 2007 at 4:40 pm (edit)
Well… it is now Friday and I hate to say it but the gentle caller has won. He found some things on the internet that were totally personal and done on my own time. Long story short, I was terminated from work today because of a personal ad he forwarded to the CEO of my company, the VP of my division, the Chairman of the Board – my VP found it to be “disgusting, immoral, vile and made him sick to his stomach” – so since I could not be terminated for something that was done on my own time from my own home, I was terminated for sending personal e-mails to several friends and my parents from work.

So gentle reader, you win. I surrender; you have what you have wanted since July… I hope you are happy, I hope you sleep well tonight, I hope that you can look at yourself in the mirror in the morning.

I have also decided to put an end to A Spider’s Web in Thornton Park. I have enough going on in my life without having to deal with without having to deal with the nut cases out there on the net. A lot of the information general reader found out had to come from my blog… and I am just tired of thinking 3 times before I post something something. The loss is just too great…

I love you all, I thank you for everything – especially the love you showed me the past month… I will be around – I am sure that Tony and Sorted will keep you posted on my ongoing treatment.

It’s been real, it’s been fun – and it HAS been real fun! I am just sorry it has to end this way at this time – this may be closing the barn door after the cow ran away… but given the past month, I need to focus elsewhere – and not be looking over my shoulder.

I am really going to miss you all – each and every one of you.

And gentle reader, now that you have gotten what you want, maybe you will have the guts to tell me who you are…

~ by Spider on April 13, 2007.

Fear has its use but cowardice has none.
—Mahatma Gandhi

Cowards can never be moral.
—Mahatma Gandhi

The coward threatens when he is safe.
—Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe

Only cowards insult dying majesty.

Dear Spider ~ You have no idea how much I will miss you!!!

"I’m so happy to be with you." ~ Early Morning Thoughts

I have written about and thought about and prayed about two people that I have never even met – but they have impacted my life and I am sure the lives of many others. They have done this by being completely open and honest about what it going on in their lives. I’m speaking of Yen and Jesse of Two Lucky People.

Their love has been such an inspiration – regardless of your orientation. As I have said, it stands as a monument to the truth AND the power of love.

Yen wrote in February that: “When hope to rekindle memories starts to wane, when your lover is changing, deteriorating, it becomes a challenge to keep loving. Every day is a lesson in patient loving. Every day you relearn how to love again.”

And it’s that relearning to love again I mentioned before. There are three stages of Love. The first is the infatuation, the second is the romance. The third and most difficult is love – because that is a conscious choice. You can’t go to a mall and find a store for it, or get it from an email. Love is a choice. Sometimes the three stages blend, and we can move between them almost instantaneously, but in the end – it is the conscious love of two people that seems to hold everything together.

As I have said before, they epitomize to me the power of the wedding vows that people seem to take so casually today. These very old words, that seem so old fashioned carry tremendous power – and truth.

I take thee … to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish …

To my mind, that should cover a true love relationship. And, each part requires choice – better or worse, richer or poorer, sickness and health – to love and cherish. This is from Yen’s latest post:

This cancer continues to pick at our lives like a vulture.

At home, Jesse is in constant discomfort. He eats like a bird, yet vomits bagfuls every night. Walking down a block is impossible. Whether in the day, or at night, he drifts in and out of sleep, in a cycle of painkillers.

I wonder if there isn’t a moment that he wakes up, and for a few seconds, forgets that he is dying.

For the survivor, forgetting is a difficult conundrum. In wanting to capture every moment, what one recalls in searing detail only renders the loss more acute. Though love and pain make poor partners, each is inextricably twined with the other. Love gives pain comfort. The latter legitimizes the former.

How do we forget one without the other?

I cried hard today in the town car on the way back from the hospital. It did not last long, probably for less than a minute. The tears stopped as suddenly as they had come. It happened soon after we got into the car, when Jesse took my hand and said to me: “I am so happy to be with you.”

Hopefully, you will read the entire post for all that was said, but the wonder of their love shines as a beacon during this very dark time. It was during all this time I realized just how much of an illustration of the vows these two humble people are.

I spent much of the afternoon and evening grieving for them and with them. It started with the title of the post: Love to pain: Don’t forget me…

Jesse summed it up in one sentence: “I’m so happy to be with you.”

Once again, (as I looked at what would be a lover’s side of the bed covered with magazines) I want that kind of love. A conscious choice – that no matter what we would carry on…until it was time for the last part of the vows – till death do us part.

But I also want what is right…and for now, it’s better for me to be alone for the right reasons – than with someone for the wrong reasons. I’m not sure I’ve mentioned this before – but someone in England wrote me one time that they were not looking for someone to go out with – they were looking for someone to come home to.

As I looked back over the vows, I realized that there is a part of them that means: in the long run – shouldn’t we do that with everyone we care about? What a change that would make…personally.

As usual when I’m upset or grieving, I turn to poets who can say things much better than I can manage.

Full Consciousness

You are carrying me, full consciousness, god that has desires,
all through the world.
Here, in the third sea,
I almost hear your voice: your voice, the wind,
filling entirely all movements;
eternal colors and eternal lights,
sea colors and sea lights.

Your voice of white fire
in the universe of water, the ship, the sky,
marking out the roads with delight,
engraving for me with a blazing light my firm orbit:
a black body
with the glowing diamond in its center.
–Juan Ramon Jimenez (1881-1958)


I have a feeling that my boat
has struck, down there in the depths,
against a great thing.
And nothing
happens! Nothing…Silence…Waves…

–Nothing happens? Or has everything happened,
and are we standing now, quietly, in the new life?
–Juan Ramon Jimenez (1881-1958)

–exchanging vows miniature by David Gregory
–crashing waves 1 by Mark Henspeter

A Love With So Much More ~ Early Morning Thoughts

This will be a somewhat different kind of post this morning.

I don’t even remember when I first discovered Yen and Jesse over at Two Lucky People. I just know that from the beginning it was one of those moments that felt as if I had known them a long time. Jesse, as I’ve mentioned, suffers from a very aggressive form of melenoma – very agressive. Along the way, Yen has posted with honesty, love and a sense of humor.

Recently, Jesse underwent a clinical trial for treatment…a very toxic treatment and Jesse did the best with it he could. There were reasons they stopped the treatment when they did… and for several (to me nail-biting) days he was somewhat “out-of-it.” Yen was with him and then one night – Jesse basically came back out of the wherever he had been. Jesse was to be taken home. Yen picked up the story today.

After more than a week of rest at home, Jesse has recovered almost completely from the IL-2 therapy.

He is his usual self, loving and already focused on getting stronger for the next round. Most of his activities are limited to a few minutes of walking outside every day. For the most part, we spend our hours taking naps, reading, and watching TV on the couch.

I’ve hesitated to write because there is really not much to tell. Every day is an exercise in patient living. I attend to his needs: blanket, pillow, water, a peck on the cheek, a hug.

Despite our best efforts, he’s still losing too much weight, hovering at a slender 140lbs for his 6′1in-tall frame. Our diet has whittled down to occasional meals, shared Chinese take-out, ramen, sushi sometimes. He has developed a liking for fresh watermelon, which I try to procure diligently.

But there has been a change …one that any relationship undergoing stress and strain is bound to encounter. What makes the difference is how those involved handle the changes. Yen continued today:

I miss the days of our courtship, when we walked without consequence, without time. Even in the early months of Jesse’s diagnosis, our hope was still athletic, vigorous.
Times are different now.

When hope to rekindle memories starts to wane, when your lover is changing, deteriorating, it becomes a challenge to keep loving. Every day is a lesson in patient loving. Every day you relearn how to love again.

Regardless of your orientation, Yen’s love even with questions stands as a strong memorial to the power of love – of what is deep within that creates a bond or bonds that can withstand almost anything that comes against it. It is not created from outside sources – the universe doesn’t have a “shop” where one can buy it. This kind of bond comes from within the individual – from deep within the heart. And while Yen is fortunate in one respect that Jesse “is his usual self, loving and already focused on getting stronger for the next round,” I have no doubt that even if he hadn’t come back as that – Yen would have stood with him.

I do not care if someone is gay-straight, black-white, moon-man or whatever, this kind of love is so deep and powerful, I maintain that great portions of the universe bow in honor of its strength.

But it’s the last part of his posting that meant so much to me … let me repeat it: “it becomes a challenge to keep loving. Every day is a lesson in patient loving. Every day you relearn how to love again. ” This is the portion that meant so much to me. After a failed marriage I read and heard that relationships are composed of three parts: 1) infatuation,
2) romance and then
3) love. The three parts are very separate from each other – and we may go back and forth amidst them – even moment by moment. But the one that is truly the “glue” is love. Which is a conscious choice. The first two can and often do rely totally on feelings – but the third – love, is a choice. And that’s why Yen (and Jesse) stand out so much to me.

So, in my own small way, I stand with Yen and Jesse – and keep them in my thoughts, prayers or healing energy (or whatever you are calling it) so that I can feel a part of their life. And maybe, just maybe someday – a love such as theirs will come my way…but – even if it doesn’t I will have had the privilege of knowing Two Lucky People (the wonderful name of their blog) and the wonder of their love toward each other .

I count myself lucky as well!!