My college roommate Robyn Anzelon was a bridesmaid at my wedding. She comments on the photo of my brother and me coming down the aisle with “so glad the sweetness is wrapping around you,” and yes, that is the word, the feeling: sweetness.
Sweetness wraps around me, stepping stones in grief. My brother’s eyes, and he always had better than 20/20 vision while I, not so much, are now expanded out. He draws me to stars and sky even as I more clearly feel the ground beneath my feet. Aliveness. I feel him augmenting sky and soil inside. I’m tenderized with sweetness, wrapped in love.
I’m reminded of my mother’s sweet smile as she said over and over again, “All is love.” My parents, our parents, lived as though rolled in tenderness, bathed in it from birth, many births. They saw a wider view. They were Holy Beings, as are we all, and yet sometimes we need to be touched again and again with the sweetness we share in living here. We need to touch each cell inside with the recognition and acknowledgment of the sweet power and joy-filled frequency of love. There, is support.
In fourth grade, I was the fairy who gave kindness in the play Sleeping Beauty. I stepped forward and touched my wand to the baby and said four powerful words, “I give you kindness.” I often say the words to myself. “I give you kindness, Cathy.” I do that today, give myself the sweet fruit of kindness, as it ripens in sun and rain, fulfilling its purpose with the growth, care, and protection of seeds, generations of seeds. We are here for more than ourselves. We seed with sweetness our future as we honor our shared needs.