Happy Lazy V-Day!

Starbucks had a long line this morning...I guess love brings out the coffee-lover in everyone. I thought I'd kill a few minutes visiting my favorite gift store next door and luckily came upon a lovely set of butterfly soaps, which reminded me of a special anniversary that also lands on this day.

I was obsessed with butterflies from a very young age. So, when I went with my friend Beanie when we were about 12 years old, to her grandparents beach house that was filled with butterflies, I instantly fell in love with her grandma. Today, Beanie's grandma, Adelaide, is my favorite movie buddy. We go to movies in the early afternoons and we have lunch and nice chats before we go.

A couple weeks ago we went to see "Slumdog Millionaire." She hated it, I loved it, and none of that is even slightly important because the most important thing that happened that day --- which is, frankly, the most important thing that happens every time we spend the day together is that she shares Lazy Wisdom with me.

This day, I got a Lazy Love Lesson from Adelaide. She was talking about the day her husband, Alec, died oh-so-elegantly-and-peacefully in his sleep. We have maybe only talked about that day one other time. She recounted that he had been not feeling quite himself the night before, had resisted taking his evening meds, and just wasn't his regular ol' brilliantly elegant, Cary Grant-ish self. When she got up in the morning she thought he was still sleeping and then a few minutes later she realized something was amiss, went over to him and found his body cold. She said her very first reaction was joy, near ecstasy that he had left this world so beautifully -- in his inimitable way. (He really was the most elegant man that many of us have ever met.)

Adelaide cried while she remembered that morning. She rarely cries. It wasn't uncomfortable tears, it was just tears of love, pure love. She said "Of course I miss him but I never wish for him back. I don't want the 86 year old Alec back, maybe the 20, 30, 40 year old... but I would never wish for him to be back for me." She added this lesson: "Never be sad when someone dies. You can miss them, but you have to let them go. Never wish for someone to come back, let them go and celebrate that they are somewhere better."

Today is Valentine's Day, the anniversary of Adelaide's husband's death. I know she thinks of him every Valentine's Day, and I know she follows her own advice and celebrates him wherever he may be.

Here's to loving and celebrating our loved ones...wherever they may be.