The Lost Words
The other day, I was reading an obituary for a sweet soul that was taken, from my vantage point, far too soon. As I sat in quiet reflection, I began to contemplate the words that he might have said if he was given the opportunity to address the people at his own funeral. Would his words be filled with counsel of leaving things undone, unsaid or spending too much time worrying about things beyond ones control? Would they be filled with thanks, like an Oscar Award winner, professing love and gratitude to all? Or would they be filled with no words at all, just warm embraces and soft kisses to those left behind?
I tend to lean towards thinking it would be the latter. I believe that a million words cannot express the emotions of the touch of love, but what happens when we have neither? To re-ask it like the late Jimmy Ruffin, "What becomes of the broken-hearted. Who had love that's now departed?" The pain in this lyric is clear, but if I was to be so bold as to add a few clarification verses to this Motown classic, I think I would choose the following:
What becomes of the broken-hearted.
Who had love that's now departed?
---
So much to give and so much to say.
Oh what I wouldn't give for just one day.
To hold close, my love's one true
Ever gently as the sun closes view
My soul shadowed with sadness
Days forgone wasted in pettiness
To speak the words unspoken
And live love with bond unbroken
---
I know I've got to find
Some kind of peace of mind
I have always felt that the most dangerous words are the ones best left unsaid. Those words, while sometimes meant well, all too often leave behind relationship scorched earth. However, despite the immediate negative impact that these words might have on their recipient. These words leave behind them, the opportunity for both the sender and receiver to heal the wound, to mend the fence, to bridge the gap, to learn to forgive and eventually forget. The same cannot be said for the lost words, those words we have not said when our own, or someone we care about time runs out. We are then left with a big old pile of things we wished we would have said and regret over the things we let get in our way of saying them. And those quickly become a dangerous stockpile of toxic burden.
In fact, isn't this the whole moral to the Tragedy of Othello. As Iago, bitter over perceived injustice in his rank and unrequited love of Desdemona, slithers behind the scenes trying to undo the true love of Othello and Desdemona. Iago first convinces her powerful Father, that Othello misled her to marry through unscrupulous tactics, creating the need for Othello to profess his love and honorable courtship, ending the inquiry. But Iago was not done, his next effort proved to be far more deadly as he acquired the handkerchief that Othello gave Desdemona as a sign of his love for her and planted it in Cassio's belongings. Iago worked diligently to bring this to the forefront of Othello's attention. Upon learning of his wife's perceived affair, Othello makes Desdemona's life miserable, beating her in public square and eventually killing her. It is after this that Iago's despicable plan comes to light and Othello, now fully educated on the deception, is forced to come to terms with the pain and accusations that he placed upon his innocent wife. A coming to terms that eventually led to Othello taking his own life.
If I sit for a moment and think with my minds eye about what Othello was thinking on the days following learning the truth, I can't help but think the inner dialogue would have gone something like this. How could I have been so blind? What have I done to my one and only? Why was I so stubborn that I chose not to trust and seek the truth? We covenanted on that day of our wedding to love each other as one, how could I have let my pride to lead me away from trusting the other half of my own self. And lastly, is it not just a stupid handkerchief?
The words that lovers leave unsaid are only seconded in pain, by the words said, but believed not. Perhaps the consequence of Othello and Desdemona's poor communication can be summed up no better then when Winston Churchill proclaimed, "Courage is what it takes to stand up and speak, Courage is also what it takes to sit down and listen." Perhaps, things could have turned out much different had Othello listened to his heart when he came upon her chambers to suffocate her. It was at the moment that he approached her as she slept and kissed her lips, that he said, "Ah balmy breath, though dost almost persuade me. Justice to break her sword! one more, one more." I believe it was at this moment that his heart made a plea to his pride, a last ditch effort to help him remember that the woman that he kissed was the same as before Iago's lies. But to Othello, this thought came across as weakness and beguilement and in this callused state the end came to past.
As a man growing up in society, we often learn that crying is for babies and feelings are for girls, that a man cannot be manly while still focusing on the emotional needs of his spouse. But I would argue that there has never been a man, no matter how hard working or capable, that did not equalize his wife with himself. For that person is not a man, because despite his physical strength and level of capability, he is still an emotional weakling. I enjoy working with my hands and seeing the results of a job well done, I enjoy watching football while eating piles of buffalo wings and I consider being a provider to my family to be one of my greatest prides. But I love my wife and should my days on this earth be cut short, I would want written on my tombstone the following. Here lies half of Nicholas Campos, the other half can be found with his wife Erin Campos.
I would want her to know that even though each day is not perfect, that my love for her is perfect. We have made mistakes, words have been spoken short and we have been scratched and dented as we have tarried along. But it is the love we share that is the fuel that has enabled me to do hard things, it is the spring by which my life found color. I would want her to know that I would trade all of the sunsets of life before her, for just one more with her. And all the words in all the different languages could not be put together to adequately describe the love that I feel when we kiss. Even as I write this, the thought of pride enters my mind, reminding me that things change and that I should be careful in speaking of such certainty in a world of so much separation. But this is precisely the point, if we want the full blessings of love we must choose to be bold and stand among the believers in proclaiming it. To say the words of our hearts without constraint that they may not become counted among our lost words on that day when the opportunities to say them cease.
May we all learn the lesson of Othello and Desdemona and let no person, pride, rumor or perceived injustice lead us away from our gift of greatest value. May we cast out the handkerchiefs of our own relationships and get beyond the vein needs for possessions as a form of marital fulfillment. May we speak the words of truth and have the courage to listen and trust in the words spoken by those who love us deepest. And lastly, when you find yourself wondering how do I love my spouse? For me the answer is simple. As Christ does, with that same belief in good things to come, with that same desire to forgive and with those same outstretched arms. To care more about the well being of your spouse, than your own and spend each night like it was your second chance to say your lost words and embrace the one you love.
I tend to lean towards thinking it would be the latter. I believe that a million words cannot express the emotions of the touch of love, but what happens when we have neither? To re-ask it like the late Jimmy Ruffin, "What becomes of the broken-hearted. Who had love that's now departed?" The pain in this lyric is clear, but if I was to be so bold as to add a few clarification verses to this Motown classic, I think I would choose the following:
What becomes of the broken-hearted.
Who had love that's now departed?
---
So much to give and so much to say.
Oh what I wouldn't give for just one day.
To hold close, my love's one true
Ever gently as the sun closes view
My soul shadowed with sadness
Days forgone wasted in pettiness
To speak the words unspoken
And live love with bond unbroken
---
I know I've got to find
Some kind of peace of mind
I have always felt that the most dangerous words are the ones best left unsaid. Those words, while sometimes meant well, all too often leave behind relationship scorched earth. However, despite the immediate negative impact that these words might have on their recipient. These words leave behind them, the opportunity for both the sender and receiver to heal the wound, to mend the fence, to bridge the gap, to learn to forgive and eventually forget. The same cannot be said for the lost words, those words we have not said when our own, or someone we care about time runs out. We are then left with a big old pile of things we wished we would have said and regret over the things we let get in our way of saying them. And those quickly become a dangerous stockpile of toxic burden.
In fact, isn't this the whole moral to the Tragedy of Othello. As Iago, bitter over perceived injustice in his rank and unrequited love of Desdemona, slithers behind the scenes trying to undo the true love of Othello and Desdemona. Iago first convinces her powerful Father, that Othello misled her to marry through unscrupulous tactics, creating the need for Othello to profess his love and honorable courtship, ending the inquiry. But Iago was not done, his next effort proved to be far more deadly as he acquired the handkerchief that Othello gave Desdemona as a sign of his love for her and planted it in Cassio's belongings. Iago worked diligently to bring this to the forefront of Othello's attention. Upon learning of his wife's perceived affair, Othello makes Desdemona's life miserable, beating her in public square and eventually killing her. It is after this that Iago's despicable plan comes to light and Othello, now fully educated on the deception, is forced to come to terms with the pain and accusations that he placed upon his innocent wife. A coming to terms that eventually led to Othello taking his own life.
If I sit for a moment and think with my minds eye about what Othello was thinking on the days following learning the truth, I can't help but think the inner dialogue would have gone something like this. How could I have been so blind? What have I done to my one and only? Why was I so stubborn that I chose not to trust and seek the truth? We covenanted on that day of our wedding to love each other as one, how could I have let my pride to lead me away from trusting the other half of my own self. And lastly, is it not just a stupid handkerchief?
The words that lovers leave unsaid are only seconded in pain, by the words said, but believed not. Perhaps the consequence of Othello and Desdemona's poor communication can be summed up no better then when Winston Churchill proclaimed, "Courage is what it takes to stand up and speak, Courage is also what it takes to sit down and listen." Perhaps, things could have turned out much different had Othello listened to his heart when he came upon her chambers to suffocate her. It was at the moment that he approached her as she slept and kissed her lips, that he said, "Ah balmy breath, though dost almost persuade me. Justice to break her sword! one more, one more." I believe it was at this moment that his heart made a plea to his pride, a last ditch effort to help him remember that the woman that he kissed was the same as before Iago's lies. But to Othello, this thought came across as weakness and beguilement and in this callused state the end came to past.
As a man growing up in society, we often learn that crying is for babies and feelings are for girls, that a man cannot be manly while still focusing on the emotional needs of his spouse. But I would argue that there has never been a man, no matter how hard working or capable, that did not equalize his wife with himself. For that person is not a man, because despite his physical strength and level of capability, he is still an emotional weakling. I enjoy working with my hands and seeing the results of a job well done, I enjoy watching football while eating piles of buffalo wings and I consider being a provider to my family to be one of my greatest prides. But I love my wife and should my days on this earth be cut short, I would want written on my tombstone the following. Here lies half of Nicholas Campos, the other half can be found with his wife Erin Campos.
I would want her to know that even though each day is not perfect, that my love for her is perfect. We have made mistakes, words have been spoken short and we have been scratched and dented as we have tarried along. But it is the love we share that is the fuel that has enabled me to do hard things, it is the spring by which my life found color. I would want her to know that I would trade all of the sunsets of life before her, for just one more with her. And all the words in all the different languages could not be put together to adequately describe the love that I feel when we kiss. Even as I write this, the thought of pride enters my mind, reminding me that things change and that I should be careful in speaking of such certainty in a world of so much separation. But this is precisely the point, if we want the full blessings of love we must choose to be bold and stand among the believers in proclaiming it. To say the words of our hearts without constraint that they may not become counted among our lost words on that day when the opportunities to say them cease.
May we all learn the lesson of Othello and Desdemona and let no person, pride, rumor or perceived injustice lead us away from our gift of greatest value. May we cast out the handkerchiefs of our own relationships and get beyond the vein needs for possessions as a form of marital fulfillment. May we speak the words of truth and have the courage to listen and trust in the words spoken by those who love us deepest. And lastly, when you find yourself wondering how do I love my spouse? For me the answer is simple. As Christ does, with that same belief in good things to come, with that same desire to forgive and with those same outstretched arms. To care more about the well being of your spouse, than your own and spend each night like it was your second chance to say your lost words and embrace the one you love.
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