Love Up

It was supposed to read "love you," but Amy's fingers went astray and it came into Messenger as "love up." She immediately followed with a "you," but the "love up" stuck with me. I typed back that "Love up" was a message for living life. 

Seriously. 

I've been gifted with several instances of dear ones loving up this week and what gifts those were. Here are three.

The first was the Amazon Prime envelope on the front porch, addressed to me. I try to avoid using Amazon as a rule and certainly knew I had not ordered anything, so I was not sure what it was. Upon opening it, I found a pristine paperback, Gardens of the Moon by Steven Erikson, along with this note: "Mom, I read this book a few years ago. I know fantasy (and genre fiction) isn't usually your thing, however I will say this is a fun read despite the length." 

My son Ben loved up and sent me a book.

Later in the week was a note from Jennifer, a close friend here in town, telling me how much she admired and looked up to me for my community work and what I bring to her life. Totally unexpected, totally heartfelt. After the tears dried, I thought of how many times I think of a friend, near or far, and don't go the extra step of telling that person what they mean to me. Jennifer, in loving up and sending me that note, has inspired me to love up going forward. 

The third occurrence was a package in yesterday's mail (in a repurposed Amazon Prime mailing envelope incidentally) that I did not see until this morning. (Mail was very late yesterday, it was dark and cold when it finally did arrive, and neither of us felt like going out last night, even though the mailbox is right there by the front door.) It was from Tani, a longtime friend, confidant, and mutual correspondent, and contained two books. One was a copy of the novel Meet Me at the Museum by Ann Youngson, which Tani passed along to me because the story is told in letters and she said how appropriate to give it to me because so much of our friendship is an epistolary relationship. That made me smile. The other book was Among Friends, a collection of poems by David Langworthy. I puzzled at the name for a minute then burst out, "Langworthy was Tani's family name. That has to be her father." 

And it was. Tani's family had published a collection of his poems, private for most of his life, for his memorial service in 2004, and Tani wanted me to have it.  I was in tears that she loved up and sent me that and the other book as a reflection of our friendship over the decades. 

What a wonderful week full of light and blessings. And now, thanks to a mistyped note, I have a phrase to describe what happened and to guide me going forward. 

Love up. What a radical thought.