What is love? I discovered that there are many different kinds of love. This insight showed sometimes during a simple household task. This time while cleaning my bedroom windows with the help of my son’s friend George.
Those of you who are familiar with the sliding glass windows common in England and the USA know that one has to unhook one side of the window in order to clean the outside. The windows were fairly large and heavy so I asked my son if he could help. He was talking to his friend at the time and turned down my request. His friend, however, offered to help.
“It won’t take very long“, I said apologetically, sensing the awkward situation I had put my son in.
But Oliver didn’t seem to mind. He knew that I almost always got my way and with a half-hidden smile gave a small nod! I was grateful that he put up with his mom’s impatience once more. All I really needed was someone to unhook the heavy window wing. Then I could continue with the cleaning.
George came upstairs and unhooked the window. He was a young, lean, good-looking guy, bald-headed, as was the fashion. He was a kite surfing buddy of Oliver’s and currently renting the studio apt in his home. The job was done in less than a minute, but he offered to also clean the outside window. He could see that I would have had to lean out the space where the pane he removed had been in order to clean it.
”Oh, thank you,“ I said, but I can do that myself. “It was only the lifting that would have been difficult for me,“ I added, not wanting to take more of his time as needed.
George, however, did not seem to be in a hurry and said, “But I think I can more easily reach the outside, so let me help you!“
He reached for the wet towel and before I could intervene was at work. He handed me the dirty towel, I rinsed it and handed it back to him. We ended up a good window-washing team.
I was touched by what I perceived to be a loving act of kindness and generosity. George helped because there was someone who needed help. It was as simple as that. It was not only what he did, but also how he did it. He did not seem in a rush, so I was able to relax as well. I felt he was content to help as long as it took. This created a very intimate atmosphere as if we had been a team for a long time. I felt the kindness of his heart.
Months later, I was long gone and back to Switzerland, when Oliver told me that George was diagnosed with cancer of the colon and that he was in pretty bad shape. It made me sad. Would I see him again when I returned to Maui? I sure hoped so, because I did not say goodbye to him when I left. I would definitely keep him in my heart. I so appreciated his kindness.
It was my good fortune that George was alive and feeling much better when I returned to Maui that fall. We did see each other again at the beach or when he stopped by to visit Oliver. We joked and laughed together as he did with everyone. I treasured our get-togethers. They made me realize how fragile life is and that we cannot take for granted the fact that we might see a friend or acquaintance again once we part company.
Another year passed and again I returned to Maui for the winter. George was still alive, although he was weaker and his outlook was not good. That Christmas we had George and some other friends over for a Christmas Eve dinner. He and I had interesting discussions about life. I loaned him the book, Spontaneous Evolution, by Bruce Lipton and Steve Bhaerman. On the back cover it described the content as follows:
“This is a love story, a love story for the entire Universe: you, me and every living organism. Inherent within all living organisms is an innate drive to survive, known by science as the biological imperative. Contrary to what conventional science and religion have been telling us, evolution is neither random nor predetermined, but rather an intelligent dance between organism and environment. When conditions are ripe – either through crisis or opportunity – something unpredictable happens to bring the biosphere into a new balance at a higher level of coherence….“
Well, another year passed. I returned home to Switzerland in spring and came back to Maui in the fall. George was still alive but this time not well at all. His beach ‘Ohana,’ which means family in the Hawaiian language, his kite surfing friends, fulfilled his wish and organized a beach party. He wanted to come down to the kite beach once more. He was too weak to kite himself, but he wanted to enjoy seeing his friends out on the water, gliding, jumping and having fun with the wind and water.
He came, a little brittle, but still lean and good looking. He thanked all for being such good company to him and so supportive during his long illness. He went around his circle of friends, saying a few kind words to each of us, joking and hugging, telling us that he loved us, more than often with tears running down his cheeks and on the faces of his friends. When he came to greet me, we also hugged and he told me in German, “Ich liebe dich,“ which means I love you. Then he went on to hug another. This was George, still trying to uplift everyone, seeing the good in all.
Trying to hide my tears, I knew this was his ‘last supper’ and his last words to me, the last time we would meet. What a wonderful and graceful way of saying good-bye! He ate from the fabulous buffet, beautifully piled up under a canopy, drank champagne and celebrated life once more. This was early December.
On that Christmas eve, we sat again in front of our Christmas tree and my son Oliver remembered, “Last year we had Geprge over and he sat in that chair over there…“
That night I had a dream about Geroge. He came to say goodbye. I sensed he left his body, freed from his pain at last; and so it did not surprise me when Oliver told me the next morning that the news was out that George died last night.
Some days later, we all came back to the kite beach once more to bid farewell to him. His surf- and kite surfing friends paddled out to sea, formed a circle way out in the ocean, the others stayed at the beach and watched. We all cheered and let him go by sprinkling flower blossoms into the ocean. And I knew, this too, is love.