Spotlight on Symptoms: Love Sickness.

I remember my darling friend Melissa giving me a red and white, pill-shaped soap that said Lovesick.

I might feel lovesick over an experience, an object, a memory, a person. A song may grab me by the neck, and I'm lost in those words and sounds for hours or days. The words line my throat. I want to watch the same movie on repeat, search the faces and memorize the dialog.

Sometimes, I have to stop myself from squeezing and kissing Oliver as much as I may suddenly want to. He's little, but his boundaries still matter. I ask for hugs, ask if he wants me to pick him up if he's scared or hurt.

I check out my husband and seek his touch. I wrote all about it.

None of this is bad, but I can feel the cross over when I suddenly can barely breathe, and what ever I love expands in my mind.

It's different from obsession because obsession is for something I seek out. Love sickness happens to me. Electricity down my arms. Pliers at my heart. A gaping, exhausting need for connection.

Love sickness usually comes or at least begins when I'm manic. It's a symptom. But I've experienced it in the dark too. Maybe it's worse then.

Love sickness burns. I try to reshape it, make it something that warms me.

What Is Grace?

Grace is undeserved forgiveness or credit. In AP English during my senior year of high school, I was extremely distracted. I turned in a paper and got it back with a low but passing grade and the word Grace (written with the sparkly pens she always used for grading--I had to admire that). I always think of that when I hear or see the word. Many time, I wanted to write that on my own students' work.

But grace is also a quality people have--a way of moving and interacting. Cinderella descending the staircase at the ball and then remaining calm when the prince arrived. One of the best compliments I've received was "Were you a ballerina?"

I like the sound of the word. It would be a lovely name though a constant reminder could be maddening for an awkward girl.

I guess we can also bestow grace on people...the small or medium annoyance or mistake that I choose not to mention. The hurtful comment that I just let go. Thinking about this makes me want to find a rubber stamp with grace in beautiful script and then go around stamping things.

Even in the most painful situations or ongoing realities, grace is present. I've seen it with my son. The grace that glows around him isn't just for him--it's for us as we remember how blessed we are to have him. And we know that every challenge can make us better parents for him.