An undesired observation of love

This reflection is born of my desire to document just a few of the many acts of love from hundreds of people who responded to the tragic passing of my 15-year-old niece on February 26, 2024.

This is what I know love to be.

Love is...not in response to a single event or a moment in time, but from the lives of humans coming in contact with other humans, whether for a day, a short span, or many years. We hear each other’s laughter, learn of other’s struggles, see other’s tears, and cheer their accomplishments as we build the connections that make life meaningful.

Love is...formed from our taking the time to imagine what another person is feeling and providing empathy when it is needed.

Love is...two parents, sobbing beside the hospital bed of their first-born child, who've decided to end life-support to a beloved daughter injured in an accident involving a vehicle.

Love is...hospital staff and doctors who show professional concern and kindness to the grieving family.

Love is...the extended family that drops everything to fly or drive across state lines to support the parents and siblings struggling to understand the loss of a core individual to the family.

Love is...neighbors tying ribbons outside nearby houses that flap and swirl with color in a prominent show of solidarity with the grieving family.

Love is...the hugs and the tears from family who embrace each other in a desperate need for understanding and connection as well as an expression of terrible heartbreak.

Love is...the luminaries set outside of the family’s house with hand-written messages of love from many different hands, to light the night.

Love is...the first responders, police, and city officials who do their job compassionately and promptly, serving a family who is unexpectedly planning a funeral.

Love is...the community that builds a memorial at the scene of the accident with pictures, balloons, flowers, toys, candles, and words of sympathy.

Love is...the high school administration breaking the news to classmates and close friends, and counselors providing grief counseling to teenagers, many of whom are coping with the death of a friend for the first time.

Love is...the parents who choose not to hold anger towards a sorrowing driver grappling with her unwitting part in the death of a child.

Love is...the people who volunteer many hours acting in the role of spokespersons in communicating difficult things between the family and the community.

Love is...the flowers, cards, homemade and store-bought treats, and thoughtful gifts left on the doorstep of the grieving family.

Love is...the incredible quantity of food that is donated by church members, neighbors, and businesses to the immediate and extended family, for the easing of just one of the grieving family's daily necessities.

Love is...the uncle with a tough exterior but a heart of gold, who lets his young niece dress him in a mix of costumes and frilly accessories so that she might have a few minutes of laughter amidst the chaos and sorrow.

Love is...the family, friends, neighbors, community, and even total strangers who reach out with messages of condolences, prayers, as well as monetary support for the costs associated with the burial.

Love are...the quiet acts of service done on behalf of the family, who in their whirlwind of grief and unexpected attention, may never even acknowledge or know of the actions. Still, they are rendered anyway out of sympathy and a desire to ease burdens.

I know our situation is not unique. The media reports similar responses of compassion around the globe when tragedy strikes and loved ones are lost. With the news reporting daily of the brutality and dishonesty of mankind, these outpourings of love and support are quickly overshadowed, especially because of their connection with loss and sorrow. But I have witnessed love’s power to heal and to lift up those who might otherwise be crushed by heartache.

Love is...people responding kindly to other people.