Life & Otherwise . . .

Her fingers slowly caressed the detail, the molding, and pondered over who used to sit here every day until their death...
This ancient chair had withstood where so many others were lost to compost and sawdust. She glanced across the grass to what looked like it used to be a recliner... beside it, a love seat of ghastly floral fabric, looking quite newer compared to most...

He was upset. Visibly upset. I hovered on the edge, like I do... Think, Jason, what can you do? What can you say? How do I make this better?
I had nothing though. Absolutely nothing. So I just sat. Listened to him talk. Reached out a hand...
And as I sat there, just listening, unable to fix the issue, it dawned on me....

Love is like oxygen!
Or so we're led to believe, aren't we? When you're growing up, love is a weird lesson to learn. Even as a small child, kissy faces, being told to tell people you love them (we even start this with babies learning to talk--"Do you love momma? Say I love...

No, no... scratch that...
It was a dark and stormy night...?
No... Definitely not that...