This Thing Called Love - Hazel's Story

Growing up was hard and lonely; emptiness filled her heart as she waited for her mum to return. Her mum had no time for her or her brother John; however, she preferred working on cruise ships and traveling the world. It didn't matter; time came and went, and her mum was out the door again, drifting the open seas towards some destination and farther from her. This left her to live with her Nan and John. Soon, though, John left her and went into the Army, leaving her with Nan, and the ever-growing emptiness in her heart. When her mum did return, she made time for fun and boyfriends more than anything. It was as if this thing called love was meant for everyone but her. As if love was a scarce commodity, and no one had it to give or the time to give it. Surely, she was worthy enough for someone to love her? But even her dad had a new family somewhere…

Days turned into years, and finally, she found this thing called love from an American airman. They got married and left Britain. They traveled to the United States, where his family lived, leaving behind her past and any old wounds that might be buried with it. John returned to England after the Army and created his own family. She had three girls and eventually one lousy divorce. This thing called love didn't stick around too long, and she, like her mum, went looking for it in all the wrong places, not realizing it was right there all along. By the way, her mum followed her from England and straight into the heart of Texas. It was just the five of them through the years, except for one bad relationship with a boyfriend occasionally. Her mum and three little girls, except when their dad took them for the weekends. She learned photography, and it became her passion. She was good at it.

As the years passed, she watched her girls grow into adults with their children. She even dated through their teen years and fell in love again, but though it lasted for years, it didn't last. She spoke with John at times from England, and he even visited a couple of times with his family. Those were precious moments to her and very dear to her heart. John was what remained of her childhood's painful and bittersweet memories. The ache was still there; it would never leave. She sometimes pondered her Nan, who was now gone, and her dad somewhere in England. With only fragments of memories to sift through, she could somehow recall that she had other siblings besides John somewhere. Then, one day, she spoke to her dad from England and learned she had three sisters and two more brothers. It was bittersweet, and the dad she barely knew knew he loved her. This thing called love could hurt and feel good at the same time if it wanted.

As more years came and went, this thing called love was ferocious and could bite if you let it. She learned that hate was not the answer and that the love she searched the world for was right there with her daughters and grandchildren. Nevertheless, the world had grown even darker, and as the years went by, she watched her grandchildren grow into adults. As time passed, she witnessed the battles her daughters fought, even the battles they sometimes brought on themselves, knowing they had to learn about this thing called love. She cried tears for the pain her grandchildren put on themselves and one grandson in particular, it seemed she could not help. This grandson somehow grew darker and colder with the world, yet she loved him, and her heart broke for him. If she had to, she would die for him; she would die for her whole family if it would save them. Yes, she knew what this thing called love was, for it burned in her heart deeper than the deepest ocean. It wasn't a rare gift; you could share it with anyone, and it would never run out. This thing is called love; you could share it with the world, and it would never run out.

I dedicate this to my mom, Hazel, who was murdered in March of 2017. She did finally speak to her dad before he died. Unfortunately, she never heard that he left her an inheritance in his will. My sisters and I just discovered that the dad she loved would keep a picture of her by his chair. Her brother John died of an autoimmune disease several years ago, which broke my mom's heart. The last person she loved in her life, although they broke up, committed suicide, and her journals tell of her broken heart for her brother, her dad, her mom, and him. My mom loved profoundly and lost deeply, but she never stopped loving and loved deeper because of it. She was an animal lover, so much so that we thought she had too many at times, but she would say, "When people hurt her, animals were the only thing that didn't."

We love you, Mom, and we are learning from you what love is all about. Jesus is the ultimate love and knows our pain; He knows what we go through.

2FruitBearers