Love knows not it's depths until separation

My grandmother died three years ago. Last night I had a dream about her. It wasn't really about her, but she was in it. There was nothing spectacular about the dream. She didn't have any profound message for me from the other side. My family and I were just having a visit with lots of food and lively conversation. In the dream we were all aware that grandma was dead and so having her with us was a real gift. We also knew it wouldn't last. We were each enjoying her so much. When we finished eating I had to leave. I don't know where I had to go, but I know I had to move on. It was so difficult for me to say goodbye because I knew once I did grandma would be gone again.

I woke for a moment, one of those brief interruptions to sleep I sometimes experience between dreams. Tears bedewed my face and pillow. I felt a little sad, but mostly I felt love. My whole body was radiating the deep love I feel for and from my grandma. It was a really sweet sensation. It was as though the love was too big to be contained and therefore leaked out as tears.

I've been having that experience more lately. Unexpected tears of joy and love. I was in Toronto visiting my family, and doing what I do most of the time I'm in Toronto, freezing my arse off in a hockey arena watching my nephews kick some serious hockey butt. In one game my younger nephew, Dana, was knocked to the ground. He stayed down for a while. I would have been more concerned if Dana wasn't prone to a little theatrics. But he was down long enough that when he got up, with the assistance of his coach, everyone in the ring cheered for him as he skated back to the bench. I unexpectedly burst into tears. Maybe I had been a little scared that something was wrong, and was shedding tears of relief. All I knew was that I felt overwhelmed with love, and my body couldn't contain it.

A few days later I was dropping my older nephew off at school. He's in high school now and I keep waiting for the day when it will be totally uncool to be seen with his aunt. Luckily we aren't there yet. I dropped him off right in front of his school and he gave me a hug and a kiss goodbye. No big deal right? So, why did I sob when the school door shut behind him?

The Persian poet, Hafiz, wrote "And ever has it been known that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation." Perhaps that is what is happening to me. I'm feeling my love so deeply for my grandma because we are separated by life and death, and from my nephews I'm separated by time and thousands of miles. Each year we are apart I feel my love grow stronger.

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