Fall cannot be far away if our Nebraska Cornhuskers started their football season today. Of course, they lost by three points. The week of hype we’ve just had promised they were ready, and all the other things players and coaches say. We trounced this team last year. They must have been more ready than we were. Sad for the players, they traveled all the way to Dublin, Ireland to play. I’m sure it will be a very long trip home. Better luck next time, guys.
A daily meditation book I have ponders fake love today, asking if it’s them or if it’s me? I find that very interesting and thought provoking. My book answers the more valuable something is, the more fakes and imitations there are. Real, authentic love is a treasure, and there are many imitations out there.
A child has a different view of love than an adult, an elderly person who is widowed has yet another definition. Finding authentic love when we’ve not seen it before is hard. For folks with addictions, they believe love is shown by their person lying for them; to the boss when they’re “sick”, to the banker when the mortgage has been gambled away, and especially to family members when there is nothing to eat. Yes, these are extremes, but simple white lies can lead to these whoppers.
Hard to explain to these folks, love is not making excuses, it’s making them accountable. They don’t like it, so they tell you you’re in the wrong. Disagreements ensue, getting louder and louder. Hopefully, they don’t turn physical. Don’t stay if they do. Always have a plan of where to go and what to do.
Substitutes are easier, but hollow. They’re not the real deal for sure. Expensive gifts in lieu of being able to trust them is not real. Flowers after they storm out and disappear for days aren’t worth it. They twist the situation to make it your fault, and lash out. Hold your ground; they’re wrong, you’re not.
Authentic love is trusting. Trust was a hard thing for me. Funny, I’ve never doubted the Babe once since we met. He showed me real love by being there, every day. Not love that is infatuation, but real, deep love, and he worked to earn my trust. When I finally realized how damaged I was, I knew I had work to do. No drama. We trust. We both are responsible for our own stuff. It works great. Grateful to know that this kind of love really exists. It’s been there all along.
The answer to the question is it them or me, is it’s both of us. If they have addiction issues of any kind, it’s them; if we have trust issues, it’s us as well. Trust is a gift, to be given as well as received. The receiver treats is as the treasure it is, the giver knows at what cost it comes.
Have a beautiful evening, I’m going to read, as it’s rainy outside. Perfect weather for finishing a book and paying bills online. Pups are napping as I just did, too. Saturdays are great, aren’t they? See you tomorrow.
2 thoughts on “Last Saturday in August. Trust Me.”
Love is when the vending machine accidentally ejects two candy bars, yeah me!
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