#FlashFriday #FridayFictioneers: "Glittering"

Strange that this week's photo prompt by Madison Woods screamed "HAIKU!" Maybe it's because it was so challenging I couldn't think of a full 100 word flash fiction. So, instead, I settled for seventeen syllables. Click here to take a look at what others wrote about the jewels in the photo.

Glittering jewels

pale in comparison to

the brilliance of love.

Love

Jan with Mother-of-the-Groom, Susan

I attended the wedding of Drew and Anne-Elise this weekend. Drew is the son of my "life" friend, Susan. We have shared the lives of our children grorwing up from the time they were in high chairs; the trials and tribulations of toddlerdom through teenagerhood, through proud college years, and now weddings. One day, we'll share the joys of being grandparents.

Our little girls,
Meredith and Andi



Our grown-up girls,
Andi and Meredith

The wedding and reception were beautiful; the couple loving, loved and lovely. It was a weekend of tears, smiles, laughter, memories, dreams. I love weddings.

One thing I will always remember about this very special wedding was what the priest said prior to beginning the ceremony, before the groom walked in, before the bridesmaids' procession, and before the beautiful bride, Anne-Elise, walked down the aisle with her beaming father.

The priest walked to the front of the church and welcomed everybody. He said, "I would like to welcome all Catholics. Welcome to all Christians. Welcome Jews and Muslims. Welcome to those of you who believe in the Asian religions."

I must admit, I began to wonder how he would welcome those who might not believe in any religion.

Then, he said, "And for those of you who do not believe, we welcome you, too. For today, what unites us is that we all believe in love."

At that moment, surrounded by many people I'd never met before, I felt a connection to everyone. And I thought about how nice it was for a couple to begin their lives with such a message - a message that love could unite us all, if only we would believe that to be true.

One Thing Left to Say

If you had only one thing left to say, what would it be?

Nine years ago as I watched the events of 9/11 unfold, the answer came as an epiphany.

Mark Bingham was a passenger on United Flight 93, a hijacked airplane apparently headed for the White House on 9/11. He and a group of passengers tried to overpower the hijackers.  His mother, Alice Hoglan recalls what he said in his phone call to her: "I want you to know I love you very much, and I'm calling you from the plane. We've been taken over. There are three men who say they've got a bomb."

Fifteen minutes later, Flight 93 crashed into a field in Pennsylvania, killing 40 crew members and passengers.

Moisas Rivas was a cook at Windows of the World, on the top floor of the World Trade Center. His stepdaughter, Linda, received a call from him at 9:02 a.m. on 9/11, and later gave her mother a message from Moisas: "Yes, Mommy, he said not to worry. He's OK, Mommy, not to worry. He's OK. Mommy -- he say, he love you -- no matter what happen, he love you."

What struck me about these messages--about all of the messages I heard and read--was that the one thing they wanted their loved ones to know was how much they loved them.

 

In what they believed would be the last minutes of their lives, what they needed to say above anything else was, "I love YOU."

 

How profound to consider that in those terrifying moments, when I expected a person would need to be comforted and loved, instead, they needed to express love--to have that be their lasting legacy.

 

Is it a primal need then, to show love? Perhaps we should live each day that way. We may not have that last chance to express it.