What Love Looks Like

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Every night this week, as I've climbed into my bed in my empty house alone, I’ve been reminded and felt the love here in Luxembourg.

This particular love is in the shape of a tabletop humidifier. It’s the loaned gift of a colleague- friend who heard my cough as she drove me to our satellite office, and promptly declared it a dry cough. A few mornings later, I found her arranging the device on my desk, setting it to my favorite color, and turning it on to release the therapeutic vapors in my office. She poured the essential oils she'd brought from home: the one that said for ease of breathing and seemed most applicable honestly. I dutifully carried it home. 

Love looks like the friend who carried my dishes from dinner all the way to my house, despite the pouring rain. An has continued to walk me all the way home recently, always being sure to offer help to carry my heavy bags. 

Love looks like the friend who made me dinner at my own home last night. And came over to help me try on the clothing I needed for an event. And shares a warm hug at the office every morning. 

Love looks like the friend who checked in on me, despite their own turmoil. And encouraged me in how I'm living my life presently. And is happy to sit on the wall by the trash or on a bed and just hear me unburden my heart. 

Love looks like the friend who sent me a valentine from Boston. And snippets from a wedding I couldn't attend, so I could feel included. Tangible reminders I'm not forgotten. 

Love looks like not being alone. 

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