beauty

I'm not sure if you have picked up on it or not, but I've been a little down lately. So many things are happening, so little things are getting done. This has caused me to be blind to certain things in my daily life that otherwise would bring a goofy smile to my face. Love is funny. This is no new concept. Right when love and I had decided to go on a "break'', I see some of the greatest examples of it.

I went to a Switchfoot concert the other week in downtown Little Rock. It was the perfect night. Cool breeze off the river, gorgeous sunset, and me and my kids rocking out to one of our favorite bands. One of the bands that opened for them was a fun punk rock Christian band. I decided then and there that punk rock Christians were my favorite type of Christians. They wear the same type of tight jeans and same amount of eye liner as other punk rockers, but they are in alot better moods. The sister of one of the band members sat near us with all her friends. Her excitement for her brother and their performance was amazing. She gushed about each song and danced non stop in support of him. (An aside: yes. contrary to popular belief, Christians do dance...I've been a Christian, a Southern Baptist Christian, since I was seven and I can do some of the best robot moves ever seen... ever.)

In front of us was a young couple. The guy had no problem displaying his love for the band, he threw his fist in the air, nodded his head and mouthed the words as all good fans do at concerts. She, on the other hand, was a little more subdued. She watched the band intently with a smile thrown at her partner every now and again. During one song he turned and looked at her for a full minute, never glancing away. He grinned as he watched her watching the performance and then leaned over and kissed her forehead gently. Without thought she laid her head on his shoulder and they both looked as if they fit perfectly.


A few seats down a dad was there with his two sons and a little girl. He laughed as the little girl danced to all the songs, and he looked proud when he got to explain to his son how the lead singer made his voice sound cool when he put his mouth to his guitar. But, the best moment was when I was singing along and dancing to a song and looked down to see both my kids doing the same. We were pretty rockin. And I know my day is coming that I won't be the one they want to hang out with. Soon I will be embarrassing or, dare I say it, boring. But, for that one night I was the coolest mom in the world. It was perfect.

Moving along with my examples of love is one of my current favorites. I work at Cold Water Creek. Yes, Cold Water Creek: where your mother or grandmother gets all her Christmas cardigans. Off the subject, I will let you know that we are currently selling not only a low rise denim, but a distressed low rise denim. Ha! Take that Talbots. Anyway, back on subject.

A few weeks ago an elderly couple came into our store. She was a bubbly woman, in her mid eighties, who was looking for a skirt. He came in with a scow on his face and headed straight to our chairs, never making eye contact with anyone. As I helped her find some skirts and blouses to match, he just sat in the chair looking as if he was auditioning for Grumpy Men 3: The Revenge.

She found a skirt she liked. It was a little fitted and showed her shape quite nicely. She walked to where her husband was sitting to ask his opinion. He grumbled that she didn't usually wear skirts and she snapped "that's why I'm buying one, I don't have any!" Still standing in front of him, she turned her back to him to look at the rest of the store. He then proceeded to very slowly lift up her shirt to take a good gander at her backside. When she realized what he was doing she whipped her head around and responded "Well. Do you like what you see back there?", he grinned from ear to ear and replied "Yes. Yes I do." She blushed and smiled at his reply and almost skipped back to the fitting room. Needless to say, she bought the skirt.

And then we come to Rozelle and Carl. Sixty five years of marriage. They've seen poverty, success, sicknesses, triumphs, five kids, one miscarriage, fourteen grandchildren, eleven great-grandchildren, retirements, diabetes, dementia, nursing home. My grandparents are the great love story I continue to watch. At one of our family dinners last month my grandmother got up to get a drink and as she walked past my grandfather he reached out to stop her and looked up at her and simply said "I'm in love with you." She grinned at him and said "I'm in love with you."

I want love. I want undramatic, pure, beautiful, honest, sweet, faithful love. Leave your violins at home. Take your fireworks somewhere else. I want a man that will still check out my ass when I'm eighty-five. Okay, I'd like a man to check out my ass now...but that's neither here nor there. I want a man that can look at me in the eyes and say "I'm in love with you." I don't want your fear of commitment, I want your willingness to take a chance and throw your whole heart into a relationship. I ache for this.

So, even though I am not fully on speaking terms with love yet, I do appreciate all it has to offer. And every day with examples of the beauty love brings (yes, I'm aware of how incredibly cheesy and syrupy that sounds...shut up) I get closer and closer to having full faith restored in it. In the mean time, I will make sure more women buy more skirts, visit my grandparents more, and start doing squats. I gotta make sure my future man has something to look at.