The Way I Love

Lark

The Way I Love

Lark
Slowly driving around my neighborhood at 12:45 a.m. or p.m., darned if I know which, but it is dark outside so figure it out for yourself. I digress for a moment. I know the answer to that question on many days or nights. It's true. But things that have the potential to be one or the other although they are the same when written or spoken do elude me from time to time. This is one of those times. Commend me. I could have taken the easy way out and used the current time of 1:14 a.m. There are other words that confound me when asked to explain why I chose one over the other. Dinner and Supper, for instance, mean lunch and the evening meal to a fair number of people and both mean the evening meal to a fair number of other people. I am in the latter group. Lunch does not equal dinner to me and certainly is not supper. I get long, tolerant sighs when the use of those two words is in question. There are many more, for instance, if I use a mouse for my computer, what do I say when I have more than one of them. Mice is the perfect word when referring to tiny rodents. Mice as a reference to more than one usb or wireless device used on my computer and referred to as a "mouse" strikes me as wrong no matter who tells me it is correct.

Where I began...driving around the neighborhood in the middle of the night looking for my oldest and most raggedy black cat is the way I love. I would drive around looking for you and, let's face it, I probably don't know you nor would you need finding in the middle of the night, but, for argument's sake, if you needed finding in the middle of the night, I would look for you. It is the way I love.

I circled the park where we live and went down the street to another part of the park and returned home before I saw the black form of my escape kitty meandering to me from down the way, looking back over his shoulder as if pursued by a very slow foe who did not show himself. He made an obligatory (I love that word) attempt to avoid capture. I allowed the pretense then scooped him up and came inside. I fed him special food. It is the way I love. If I had found you I would have brought you inside and fed you a treat. A special treat for you. It is the way I love.

The subject of this short musing came to me as I was parking the car wondering if I would be up all night waiting for that junkyard cat to come home. Moments before I saw him I knew that I would be up all night. Many people would go to sleep and hope their cat showed up by morning. I just cannot do that when something or someone I love is missing or hurting or in need or, basically breathing. I have to stay up all night and check outside periodically, whistle a tune, walk around outside a bit and then return to my seat until the next urge calls me to repeat the cycle. Do I like it? No. Like has nothing to do with it. Love has everything to do with it. Waiting up all night for the possibility of a homecoming is natural to me. It is the way I love.

Love enough to go around is what I have and I have it in abundance. Money? Not so much. Common sense? Ah, duh! Love? Yes! Yes! I have that and I always have it. It is the way I love.

I like to love carelessly, recklessly and all those other words of extreme measures ending in "...ly". I could just as well be abundant in many other areas. But I'm not and I'm cool with it.

So, the cats of mine are seated quietly in their respective places. They know I am a sucker for love. They know they are safe and sound with me. I am a fierce, warrior lover. I am loved by a God who pours out grace and favor on me. In my case, He does not ask much. He asks for me to give freely of what I have in abundance. It is the way I love.

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LeatherLady64

I find myself looking for my escapees. not because I have to, but for appearance sake. It is what you are \"supposed to do.\" In my mind, why would I waste my time looking, when they are coming back to me. It is the way I love. Be here with open arms, ready to take them in when they find their way home. But, for appearance sake, I will run around whistling and calling names (not always nice ones). And then get back home to have them show up and run into my loving arms. It is the same for those I love. I do not go about chasing them, I wait, calling up in prayer. And they come back.

Michelle

Hi Lark, thanks for sharing. Thanks for showing us your heart. I ‘m not a cat lover but I get it. I love it.