Where was the excitement to work on my anniversary random acts of kindness (RAKs)? It was such a joyful experience last year to share flowers and donuts and balloons at the hospital. But the thought of entering a hospital this week just became more than I thought I could handle.
And then I ran into Dr. Gollard, Vern's oncologist, at Starbuck's. It's been nearly 5 years since Vern & I last saw him. I hesitated approaching him, but was encouraged by my friend (thanks, ML). I introduced myself and thanked him for the care he gave my husband - and he immediately said "Vern, what a kind man" and followed it with "Ohio State". He remembered! Those two drove me nuts talking football at appointments when I was anxious to hear blood count numbers and stats and progress. But Vern loved him because of those conversations.
And thinking about that short little conversation helped me to recognize how important it is to me that Vern be remembered. And why I include his name on our anniversary RAKs. They are a physical reminder of the love we shared, the love we continue to share. So I got out my stencils and pens and ink sprays and the little RAK cards my friend Laurie gave me and got to work.
But what to include inside these 50 little envelopes? What could make a difference? And then I came across the More Love Letters website: http://www.moreloveletters.com/ And I knew what to include.
It's really that simple. It's what the world needs more of.
So I began writing little love notes to anonymous people. I've joined the More Love Letters team and will be writing love letters regularly, but these little anniversary RAKs will just have a few important words for whoever finds them: you are loved, you are beautiful, you can do this, you are amazing.
And that's the thing ... I don't need to deliver them to a hospital. That was the right thing to do last year, but not this year. I can place these in any number of spots ... tucked in with the canned goods at the grocery store ... dropped in a bin at Target or Hobby Lobby ... handed to the drive-through kid at McDonald's ... tucked inside a book at the library. Ready and waiting for whoever is supposed to find them.
So I'll admit this here ... I did not distribute my RAKs yesterday. I spent the day in the house, with the blinds closed, in my jammies. All day. It was what I needed to do on that special day this year. Self-care. Yes, it's been nearly 5 years since my Vern left this world. But don't you dare say I should be 'over it'. I will miss him and the love we shared until the day I die. And it's OK. Really, it is. I'm not depressed. I'm living my life. I'm doing some really, really good things. These melancholy days just drop by every now and then - especially from August 23 to September 22 each year - and I must respect them. Remember them. Remember him.