Love is.....

Love is being married to your sweet heart for 70 years.

Love is watching your children grow up together.

Love is patient and kind. (lots of patient!)

Love is growing old together.

Love is the name of my sweet neighbors.

Mrs. Love is 88 years old and still lives at home. Mr Love lived at home too until a little over 2 years ago he fell and broke his hip and had to go to an assisted living facility just a few minutes away for what was hoped to be a short time. It turned in to much longer.......

For 12 years they have been my neighbors. They have been my husband's neighbors for his entire life since we actually live on the land he grew up on. The very first time I ever saw Mr Love in his yard I nearly wrecked my car. He looked so much like my Papa Kirby I could not believe my eyes! I used to walk by their house every single morning just about the time he was going to get his paper. We chatted for a few minutes then both went on our way.

One of my favorite things about Mr Love was although he was about as ornery as they come when he wanted to be, he had such a big heart. For this reason (the ornery part AND the big heart part!), and so many more, he so reminded me of my Papa (who died when I was 14)! Mr Love didn't know me the last time I went to see him. I didn't go back, I didn't want to confuse or upset him.

Mr Love passed away on Saturday. He died on his 92nd birthday. His wife, who is one of the sweetest people I've ever met, has been in the hospital. As of last night she wasn't going to be able to attend the funeral today which broke my heart! I had actually planned on going to the hospital to sit with her today so she wouldn't be alone, but her daughter in law called me this morning to say that the Dr was going to let her go to the funeral.

Thank goodness!

My heart breaks for sweet Mrs Love who today has said her last goodbye to her Love of 70 years. I stop by her house a lot, just to check on her. (Two of her kids live beside her, but I figure it's nice to see a non related face now and then!) Carter gets a kick out of calling her "Miss Love".

Kyle was a pall bearer. As I ironed his clothes this morning, I thought about the fact that the only time I iron that shirt and suit seem to be for sad occasions. Just over a year ago, I ironed it when he was pall bearer for another neighbor.

The drive down our short 1 mile road looks different now. Stella now sits in Paul's chair by the window at night...not Paul. Mr Love isn't mowing the grass or working in the garden, Mrs. Love now sits on the porch alone. Abby's house is empty. She hasn't had me to return anything to the grocery store in utter embarrassment in several years now. I do still go pick her buttercups though. She'd be happy about that. (or shoot me...not sure). Marcia drives by our house alone now. Her Ed, the local part store owner/former rocket scientist, is no longer by her side each day.

Kyle just came in and said that Mrs Love didn't get to go to the funeral after all. I sure wish I'd known.

If you think of it, say a prayer for her tonight. I'm sure she's missing her Love so much.