Looks Like I'm Falling in Love

I have not written in this blog for quite some time. I guess I have been busy figuring out how to love like a wife (a full time job) in the midst of the rest of my life. And though I have had no deficit in instances of daily love (especially from my particularly Christ-like husband), I have found it difficult to find the time to write about anything besides what is required of me in graduate school. But recently, I experienced something that reddened my cheeks while warming my heart. This weekend, my mother and grandmothers visited my church to watch me dance with the dance ministry. We decided we would go out to eat afterwards to chat and partially to celebrate Hubby’s recent birthday. He chose Red Lobster (typical). The dance went well, lunch was awesome, and I always love spending time with my family, so I was already on cloud nine. Hubby had to return to work eventually but the ladies wanted to go shopping for an outfit for my grandmother’s upcoming 75th birthday bash. So off we went. We were very successful in choosing a festive shirt in her favorite color and matching accessories. While they were looking at shoes, I remembered Hubby had recently commented that he needed more dress slacks for work. So I escaped to the sales racks to see if I could find a good deal on some pants (I refuse to buy things that aren’t on sale…something I learned from my mother), but I did not see anything worth getting. As we were leaving the store, I asked if my granny and mother wouldn’t mind going to Marshall’s with me to see if I could find something for Hubby. Because I didn’t get my love of shopping from nowhere, they readily agreed. It didn’t take much time for us to choose some things for him, laughing and joking along the way. Eventually we were distracted by the other shiny things in Marshall’s and wandered through the entire store inspecting frames and forcing my granny to try on hats. And finally we ended up in the section to rival all sections: the shoe section. First I perused the men’s shoes and considered getting a pair for Hubby, but decided against that for very mature budgetary reasons (and maybe partially because sometimes men’s shoes are boring). Then we wandered into the women’s shoe section and had ourselves a good ole time! There we were, picking out shoes for each other to try on, not really seriously considering purchasing most of them, when it happened. I spotted an adorable pair of neon salmon (is that even a real color?), peep-toe wedges on the clearance rack…in my size! How fun! Of course I had to try those on! I put them on and walked over to the mirror, admiring the cuteness. I walked back to where I’d chosen the shoes and was just about to say something until I realized that I was suddenly in the midst of falling. I’m still not quite sure how it happened, or even what happened. One moment, I was trying on shoes, and the next moment I was fighting gravity in a battle for my life. It felt like the most dramatic fall of all time. I was trying to grab onto something…anything, while also trying very hard not to die. And as I was falling I thought to myself, “Self, this is going to hurt. This is going to hurt really bad.” And finally, I was on the ground. In the middle of Marshall’s. Surrounded by many people. One leg going this way, the other bent under me. One arm in a trash can, cute shoes still firmly attached to my feet. My heart was pounding and I was terrified…and…I was completely unharmed. I was very surprised that nothing was broken. Now, the love I felt came from the looks of my mother and grandmother and the gentle hands of a stranger on my shoulders. As I fell, a woman noticed what was happening and ran...no. Jumped…no. LEAPED to my aid. Like an Olympic hurdler, she flew to my rescue and tried to prevent me from what probably looked like my impending doom. She didn’t manage to quite catch me, but her hands did manage to get beneath my shoulders and head. If my head would have gotten closer to the ground, her quick thinking would have definitely prevented a concussion (and later she even showed me her bruises from a recent tumble down the stairs to ease my embarrassment…sweet lady). But my mommy and granny stared at me in silent terror as I fell, looking helpless like watching a precious vase tumbling toward the ground. When I finally landed, flustered but unbroken, I nervously chuckled. And my mother, assured that I was alright and easily amused, burst into laughter. When I noticed my grandmother, her lip was quivering and she looked like she might cry. Even though I was clearly ok, even the scare of my possible pain was too much for her to readily shake. So though I felt extremely embarrassed, I also felt so valuable and so precious and so loved…by the most important women in my life and by a stranger. So I guess love looks like a lot of things: like anonymous and aerobic saviors, like hysterical relief, and like unshakeable concern.