You better let somebody love you before it's too late

I know this is very lowbrow of me to admit, but of the music icons we've lost this year, the one whose work I felt greatest affection for was Glenn Frey. I know, I know. Prince and Bowie were the artistes of the first order. The Eagles were just Top 40 crap.

What can I say? I like Big Macs, too.

Anyway, the Glenn Frey-Don Henley composition that means the most to me is "Desperado." Because it's me. I do always want the one I can't get. I do prize my independence above all else. I do often isolate myself so much that "my prison is walking through this world all alone."

So while I was blue today -- for a variety of reasons, not the least of which is that it feels like I'm the only one on the entire planet not celebrating Mother's Day -- I also didn't reach out. This is a weakness of mine, this reluctance to let others see that I'm hurting and that I need help. My self sufficiency isn't a gift to anyone, I see that. It's just that it's a hard habit to break.

Two acts of kindness meant a great deal to me today. The first happened first thing in the morning and came from an unexpected source. My neighbor Sally, whom I've helped over the last year or so, shot me an email with this attachment. She's both a mother and daughter, in addition to being a doting dog owner, and yet someone sent this to her and she was kind enough to send it to me. Not to a long list of email contacts, just me. It made me very happy.

And then my friend from Key West called. I owe him an email, actually, but he's not one to keep score. He and his partner are the most casual of Facebook users and just the other night caught up with my posts of the last month. They just now saw the one on April 26 where I shared the unfortunate news about my big special assessment -- $4,500 for the new elevator. They considered that a big bill and were worried about me.

We talked ... and talked ... and talked. We talked about my aborted bathroom renovation. As a fellow animal lover, I appreciated his take on my predicament with Reynaldo and Connie. We talked about their three dogs. We talked about my job and his job(s). About the car accident that injured no one but nearly totaled their car. About my health problems, about his partner's health problems.

We talked and talked and talked. It felt sooooo good to feel so connected to someone. I'm so grateful that he's willing to put in the effort it takes to keep a friendship intimate and vibrant, even across the miles.

I have to remember, too, that I can be the one to pick up the phone, too. I'm comfortable reaching out to my oldest friend, but she's the only one. I need to widen the net.

I need to remember to let people love me.