Nothing Like Love
This is the week of love and we all know that there is nothing like love. Now there are a lot of things we call love, a lot of ways we use the word but let me tell you a story from my own family that I believe will write the definition of love on your heart.
Bubal was the next to the oldest of my cousins, he was tall, handsome, and almost everything you would want in a guy. He like his older brother and another cousin all served in the Second World War
He returned with a thousand stories and maybe somewhere underneath a thousand scars.
He was the last of the group of boys in our family to marry and there always seemed to be a far off focus that only he could see.
He told his wife that he was going to the store, kissed her as usual and then went by and asked his mother if there was anything she needed from the store. She said all was well so he kissed her and walked out the door; she never saw him again.
The years slipped by, his wife had the marriage dissolved and time moved as it always does in a forward direction. His mother prayed for his homecoming with ever tick of the clock, and while because of the difference in our age I did not know him well I too prayed and longed for him to come home, to see his mother.
But his mother, Aunt Oma, slipped out of this world her son never came to see her. I just knew he would return for her funeral, I even returned to the cemetery and waited until the night pulled its shade of darkness over the green soil, he never came.
Years later his body ravaged with cancer he returned and his older brother took him in and cared for him until the blackness of cancer healed the scars of life in death.
Where is the love Ivan, the love was not in the wayward son but in the faithful brother, Meredith, who cared for him, loved him, and received him and all his mistakes and all his heart aches until he left this world?
Meredith left a few years later and I can only imagine what crown he received for love never fails.