“A soulmate is someone to whom we feel profoundly connected, as though the communicating and communing that take place between us were not the product of intentional efforts, but rather a divine grace.”
—Thomas Moore
Hello! I hope you are enjoying a wonderful President’s Day!
I’m very pleased to be able to share two more “LOVE” excerpts from the wonderful book, “Meant to Be” with you today. These beautiful short stories, “Heart of Love” and “True Love,” edited by Barry and Joyce Vissell, are sure to warm your heart and, if you love stories of love and romance as much as I do, they may even bring a few tears to your eyes! Enjoy ♥
“Heart of Love“
Edited by Barry and Joyce Vissell
My brother, Danny, was born ten minutes before me. Inseparable from the beginning, we could only sleep if the other was close by. If one woke up, the other was soon to follow. Our two younger siblings were born within four years of our birth. Our parents were so busy with them that Danny and I took care of each other. If someone asked us what our names were, we would say in unison, “Danny”—or maybe the next day we would say, “Darlene.” As far as we were concerned, we were one and the same.
Throughout elementary school, junior and senior high, we ate every lunch together. The friends we had were always “our” friends. When we chose the same college, our father finally put his foot down and would not allow us to room together. We were assigned separate rooms with roommates of the same sex. I guess our parents hoped we would begin to operate more as individuals, but Danny and I continued to spend as much time together as possible. We began dating, but always as double dates. The truth is, we both knew we couldn’t spend the rest of our lives together, as we both wanted to have families of our own, but we were also so fulfilled in each other’s presence. Danny was my brother, my best friend, my main support, my confidant, and the funniest person I knew.
Although I liked doing everything with Danny, the pastime I enjoyed the most was painting. Danny was a sensitive, trained artist, who drew heavenly landscapes, with pictures of angels and little children. He could draw the most beautiful faces. His weakness, or so he said, was painting hands. In contrast, my strength was painting hands in their infinitely different positions. Often, Danny would ask me to paint hands on the angels or children in his paintings. When Danny and I were painting together, we felt exceptionally close to each other and also to our Creator.
One evening, we stayed very late finishing our work in the art classroom. Driving home, there was a special feeling between us. Suddenly, there was a car in our lane coming straight towards us. We were hit before I could even scream.
The driver of the other car was a teenager who had had too much to drink at a party. He was killed instantly. Danny was seriously hurt and rushed to the hospital. I was shaken, but not badly hurt. I rode in the ambulance with Danny. The doctors were grave and honest, Danny had sustained irreparable brain damage. There wasn’t anything that could be done. As his only relative present at the time, a surgeon approached me about the possibility of donating his heart for transplant. I got my parents on the phone and we all agreed to donate Danny’s heart so someone else might live. As Danny lay in a coma, his heart was removed and rushed to a waiting donor…
Continue Reading “Heart of Love” (Scroll down to the second article)
Copyright Barry and Joyce Vissell. All Rights Reserved.
“True Love“
Edited by Barry and Joyce Vissell
When I was two years old, my mother put me in a day care center. She tells the story of how I was terrified to stay at this place until a two-year-old boy named Bobby joined the group. As long as Bobby was there, I was not afraid. Both of our mothers had to work full-time, so Bobby and I were there every day together. The staff reported to my mother that we were never far from each other’s side. When nap time came we would refuse to nap unless our blankets were side by side.
After three years in day care, it was time for public school kindergarten. The day care staff tried to prepare us for the fact that we wouldn’t be together again. That didn’t make sense to my five-year-old mind. I wanted to always be with Bobby.
Our mothers, acting independently of each other, enrolled us in the district’s elementary school. Imagine our surprise when I reluctantly went for my first day of kindergarten and there was Bobby! We were in the same class! Again, we played together every day.
Bobby was the bright spot in my life, since my home life was anything but happy and secure. My father would go out drinking and come home and hit my mother. My only joy and security was my time with Bobby at school.
In first grade, the children started to tease us for playing together so much. We didn’t care. Our favorite activity was swinging and telling each other jokes. We would laugh for a long time over our jokes.
Meanwhile, life at home was growing more and more unhappy. Lying in bed at night, I would hear my father yelling at my mother and hear my mother crying. I felt so sad I didn’t know what to do. To comfort myself, I thought of Bobby during those times and tried to remember the jokes he’d told me that day.
In second and third grade the teasing grew intense. The boys called Bobby a sissy for playing with me. Sometimes he’d leave me and go off to play with the boys. Those were very sad days. Usually, though, he’d continue to play with me.
One night, when I was eight years old, my father came home more drunk than ever and began hitting my mother very hard. I tried to stop him and he struck at me. I ran to my room crying. I wished I could sneak out of my house and be with Bobby. In the middle of the night my mother woke me saying, “Get up, pack some of your favorite things. We are leaving here for good. Now hurry!”
My mother’s voice was urgent and I obeyed her. We got in the car and drove west for seven days. All the time we were driving I cried. I wanted to be with Bobby, the one person that I felt secure and happy with…
Copyright Barry and Joyce Vissell. All Rights Reserved.
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Wishing you a day filled with lots of love!
Soulfully,
Valerie
