Again

 

She said it a lot.  I would reach down, Marty would turn her cheek to me, I would kiss her cheek, and she would say, “Do it again”.  I would kiss her cheek again, and she would say again, “Do it again”.  This repeated four maybe five times in a row.

Marty loved being loved.

That wasn’t always the case.  At times during her life Marty struggled with feeling loved, with feeling worthy of love.  Marty wasn’t ever sure she deserved the love and affection of those around her, more important; too often she didn’t feel very lovable.

Over the years, post stroke, that changed.

She loved to be hugged, she loved to be kissed, she loved to hold hands, have another human touch her arm or rest their hand on her shoulder, she loved physical affection.  Marty loved knowing she was loved, and she eagerly accepted that love and the affection that came with it.

None of that meant that Marty couldn’t be exceptionally ornery; occasionally the old Marty would resurrect her tart, acerbic self.  Like, when she told me that my shaggy hair and shorts and sweatshirt were just a little bit of an embarrassment to her.  But, overall, Marty evolved into a sweet and loving human who loved to be loved and was not shy about saying give me some more.

All of us, at times, struggle with the idea of accepting love, accepting care; even from someone we know loves us.  Marty was not alone in that.  We don’t feel worthy of another’s sacrifice, we don’t feel we deserve adulation or praise or affection.  We have that voice in our head rattling around telling us, “You are not worthy, this other person’s love is more than you deserve, I’ve done nothing to cash in such a rich reward. “

In her life Marty felt that, it made her angry, it made her sad, it was frustrating.  She got over that, post strokes.  Marty evolved to a better new normal.  She no longer thought about being worth loving, she didn’t run all the negative talk around in her head.  She found a place in her heart where she would very simply say, “Do it again” with a level of assurance and expectation that you would kiss her cheek as many times as she asked and that it was okay, it was perfect for her to ask, again and again and again.

I attended some business training years ago that focused, to a small degree, on accepting compliments, accepting nice things people say to you.  I learned early in life to be humble and too often I took that humility to absurd levels, not accepting kindness, not accepting good things; with the idea I must pass on kindness from others if I was a truly good human.  We need to learn to accept those kindnesses and simply say thank you, accept the words, accept the love.

After the strokes, all the way to the end Marty knew and loved knowing she was loved passionately.  She absolutely knew she was loved, and I think, remarkably, because of or after devastating strokes, she came to see herself as lovable, worthy, and deserving of my love, of our children’s love, of our family’s love, of our friends' love.  She got it, she understood we can never particularly deserve another’s love and affection, we can never earn that greatest of things through our behavior.

Love, the love of other people, the love of God is given freely, it is not earned, we don’t necessarily deserve the love of others, it is the greatest of things, it is the ultimate gift we give and receive.

When it’s offered we simply need to accept it; we simply have to say, “Do it again.”