Strawberries

Monday Morning Musings:

“Hatred paralyzes life; love releases it. Hatred confuses life; love harmonizes it. Hatred darkens life; love illuminates it.”

–Martin Luther King, Jr., Strength to Love

I wanted to write of strawberries

we feasted on them,

farm stand fresh, luscious

their scent perfumed the room

earthy-sweet,

tasting of sunshine and promise.

My daughter and I ate them,

picking at them from a bowl,

putting them in a salad,

eating them baked

mixed with other berries,

under a crust of oatmeal, flour,

and brown sugar.

We sat companionably,

talking and watching TV

sharing the characters’ lives and our own

proposals, marriage, diamond rings,

we laughed,

we watched the cats

and drank coffee,

a summer afternoon,

with summer heat and summer flavors.

And love.

 

When the girls were young, we picked strawberries

and had strawberry shortcake for dinner,

a special treat

sun-browned girls in berry-stained clothing,

laughing at dessert for dinner,

the food was eaten long ago, but the memory is still sweet

sweet with the love of family

And love is love.

 

Not long ago, a friend’s son, a little boy,

hugged her so hard

that he cracked her rib.

Another friend said it’s a reminder,

a reminder that our bodies are fragile,

though we think we’re strong in body and mind

and we love hard and fiercely,

no matter the love

because

love is love.

 

we’re all strong

we lift weights

we’re determined

we fight cancer

and sorrow,

but in a second,

bones shatter

poppy-red blood splatters floors

or fields

final breaths exhaled

in battles

or hospital beds–

no more sunshine or promises.

Sometimes love hurts

but it doesn’t kill,

not like hatred.

And love is love.

 

I wanted to write of love and memories,

of strawberries sweet on the tongue

like kisses

I wanted to write of life,

of spending time with people I love

of happy June days

of wine and desserts

of hugs so hard they take your breath away

I wanted to write of strawberries today

but there are fifty people dead in Orlando

their bodies stained not by berries, but by blood.

But still

love is love.

“We’re on this Earth for such a short time. Let’s try to get rid of the hatred and the violence.”

Christine Leinonen, mother of one of the Orlando shooting victims

 

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35 thoughts on “Strawberries

  1. Almost makes me want to stay home from work. . . So sad! Thanks for the Love being shared here. ❤
    NO to hatred. NO to judging.
    Hoping there are just peace, love and "strawberry fields forever" for those killed.
    You are special and I felt the kindness radiating through your words. Hugs, Robin xo

  2. I don’t know if you can even honour it with the description ‘hatred’. Ignorance, stupidity, weakness, spineless following of a bankrupt doctrine, but nothing as positive as hatred. Just so sad.

      • He had a wife and a young child. Why would hate be stronger than what he felt for them? I think it’s not hatred that motivates these people it’s a conviction that they are about the Lord’s work if you see what I mean, and if they make a good job of impressing him, they’ll get a seat at the top table in Paradise. I don’t think it’s any more complicated than that. It’s why this is so much more important to them than the wife, the children, the life they have here, that is impossible for us to understand. Deluded, I’d call them and I’d lock up all the ‘deluded’ mindless idiots there are plotting massacres because there is nothing more dangerous than ignorance.

  3. Strawberries are wonderful … and gotta love those locally grown … and yes, it these sad & crazy times, my we remind ourselves of the goodness of people, love, strawberries, and hugs while remembering those most affected.

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