Like Most Patriotic Americans, I Spent the Weekend Celebrating Valentine's Day!
As Supreme Court Justice Antonia Scalia lay dying, I was asleep in my bed. Granted, an hour ahead of him, since he was in Texas, and that's CST, and I'm officially in EST.
We drove to Elizabethtown Saturday night-- you remember, it was the title of a movie, once-- and ate dinner at Ruby Tuesday's with our campground host and his friend, who are from Cave City, KY. They wanted to eat at the Texas Roadhouse, but since the floor is black, and I can't judge distance well, yet, I was glad to go to a restaurant with lighter carpet-- my little gold house slippers actually show up against the carpet, and I can see where the floor is, rather than stepping into a black void. Not only that, but Texas Roadhouse has ramps, that are unseen by me, anyway, so I never know if I'm going to drop off into the nothingness, or step up on nothingness. Such fun!
My husband got a steak, which is a treat for him, and my son got Ravioli, which is a treat for him, too. I got the chicken BLT, no L. It was delicious, and the company was superb.
The next morning, officially Valentine's Day, I was the proud owner of a box of Whitman's sampler, a package of Lindt's Chocolate Truffles, and a pretty silver heart necklace. My family enjoyed the goodies I bought them. I think it was 2 pm, or thereabouts, when I learned of the justice's death. My sympathy to his family and friends. Rest in peace, Judge Scalia.
Since then, at least, the SPIRIT of Valentine's Day seems to be lost upon the general public. Valentine's Day is a day of love-- not just romantic love, but love between friends. And since I think of all of you as my neighbors, I would like to express my feelings of Agape, or Friendly Love to you all.
Agape, (we down here in uneducated KY pronounce it ah-gop-ay ), is about the only Greek word I know for sure, and it means love-- friendly love. It means love for your neighbor. It was the one word I had at my disposal when I met the Greek Restaurant owner on Long Island, who surely is gone by now, but who loved me, as I loved him. We developed an entire relationship on one word-- agape. May the Good Lord bless him and his wonderful family, wherever they may be, and whatever they may be doing.
You see, he was an immigrant-- he had just stepped off the boat, so to speak, and was either a minister, or an elder in the Greek Orthodox Church, and for a short time, he was my connection to a family and kindness. He was unfailingly kind. He was wise, and he was a lovely man of integrity and wit. I was very fortunate to meet him, as I have been fortunate to meet all of you.
Our routine, the elderly man and I, was to clasp both of our hands with each other, and say softly, "Agape, Grandfather", and "Agape, Daugher". And hug each other. Fortified by a hug, I could face my treacherous days with determination and joy. I made many wonderful friends, there, on Long Island, and it was all due to the boost of love, shown to me by this kind and generous man.
So, while either waving-- because a lot of you don't want a hug from me-- or hugging you--
Agape, My Friends!
Thanks for coming by!
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Agape, my friends!
Thanks for your friendship, and thanks for being here!
I spent the day (evening really) sipping a lot of tequila (OK too much) and watching old movies.
You had a great evening!
Happy Valentine's Day, Randy!