When my Dad was alive, he would end every phone call with this phrase, "B. Love." In the Brady family, B. Love is an abbreviated term for Bye and I love you. He would say this not only in the privacy of his own home. He would say this with no shame, no embarrassment, anywhere. Even, as an attorney, in front of his colleagues. In fact, I remember him saying as he was taking a break from a deposition he was holding, B. Love. Enny. He called me Enny, the Brady's were, and still are, big on abbreviating.

When my Dad died, over his coffin, hung a sash, that said "Beloved Father and Grandfather." That's when I first got to thinking about B. Love. B. Love. Ed.  I think my Dad was leaving us with much more than a mushed together Bye, I love you. He left us with a gift, an order, even a mandate. B. Love. Be love, Jenny. Not just an abbreviation of a greeting, but something to live by. Be Love. Let God into every part of me. Every cell. Let every cell of me Be Love. For this, I must soften, receive Life as the gift that it is, and be open to receiving it in it's wholeness. Opening to all of life, not just the feel good stuff. Can I be love when life does not happen on my terms? Can I have faith in God when things are not going as planned? Can I let go of the idea that God is in my life only when things are going smoothly? To be love is radical. It is necessary and it is real.

Thank you, Dad, for in your simple phrase, you remind us  what we are all called to be. Love.

 

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