From then on I was mostly with my grandparents.  They nurtured me and plied me with this love that seemed so foreign.  I grew and kept the faith.  I shared this love with all, even those who taught me that love had to hurt.  Yes, there were times when I doubted, when the old definition seemed more plausible.  Still, I kept on, even when my mother disowned me, looked me in the face and told me I was “a damned Jew”, just like my father.  That was the first time I ever heard this.  I felt relief and understanding.  It was as if every question I ever had was answered.  I embraced this and went on.

Twice I have gone to foreign lands to share my faith and this wonderful love.  When I wanted to do this full-time, I was told that I wasn’t good enough.  They cited the abuse I received as a child was something I could not overcome enough to be trusted in the field.  I still kept on.  Then on the day I wake up to find I have a disease that has no known cause, no known cure.  I kept going as best I could.  As time wore on, I could no longer do the things I used to do.  It seemed those I used to do things with no longer wanted me around if I could not fully participate.  The congregation I attended told me I could come to them and they would pray over me.  It’s funny, when I would minister to people, I would go to them.  I would see a need and I would fill it as best I could.  Now that I need it I am told to come and they will pray.  It has been since July 28, 2007 that I have been able to attend congregation.  the driving is difficult and I have made this known.  A few said they would call and then come fetch me for study.  I haven’t heard from them since.  The congregational leaders haven’t even cared enough to come and visit.  I seem to recall a passage in the scriptures where Messiah was averring “I was sick and in prison and you did not come to visit me”.

More than 30 years of faithfulness gives me the reward of a disease that devastates my life and no one around to help me through.  After all those years of faithfulness and when I need it returned, I am met with emptiness.

It must be so easy for some people to sit on the outside looking in with judging eyes as I cry out in pain and tell me to just get over it and move on.  No empathy.  No sympathy.  Perhaps they are letting me know in their own way that I am not worthy of anything more than ridicule after I have been there for them with understanding and kindness.  No need to walk a mile in my shoes as I have difficulty just getting from the apartment to the car.  However, I can no longer be faithful to the one who has deserted me after my lifetime of devotion.

My poll on WDC was only open to members and I desired a more global allowance of participants.  It seems that writer’s have interesting thoughts concerning love.  The way I pose my question and the selection of options caused many to pause before replying.  On the surface the question seems quite simple.  Then you view the options and begin to question what you really think.  I can not recall exactly why I designed this poll, except that I wanted to write an article.  What my prompt was I do not know.  As I ponder this I am sure that I was brought to this poll due to my own thoughts about love.  I actually put my response in the options – “A word in the dictionary”.

The first nine years of my life all I knew of love was that it had to hurt.  If someone said “I love you” then they wanted to hurt you, physically and/or emotionally.  Then I found religion and thought I was heading in the right direction when it came to love.  Yes, there were still those in my life that would continue to hurt me, but I thought I had found a different kind of love.  Then I got sick with a chronic illness that has no known cause/no known cure and all of that seemed to vanish.

I love teddy bears.  I love to write.  I love to read.  I love, love, love mangoes.  I love music.  It has been more years than I can count since I have said “I love you” to anyone.  In Second Life, I do occasionally say “I love my SLamily”, but it is usually said a bit facetiously when the crew are acting all silly and goofy.  I have noticed that most folks use that line very rapidly.  In the beginning of romantic relationships it can be a bit explosive.  But those who know each other a long time or are related in any manner say it all the time.  They end telephone and IM conversations with it and even sign cards, letters and e-mails with it.  Sometimes I think it is out of habit or expectation.  It isn’t that I have no feelings for the person I am speaking with.  I just don’t like using such powerful words on a whim for one.  I also have such negative memories for those who have used those words with me and I do not want to use something for someone I care about with ugliness attached to it.

So, take the poll and give it some real consideration when you answer, “What is love?”  Then look at how it applies to you and your life in respect to those you care about.