Tuesday, February 19, 2008

Amour

We learn about love from our parents. The unfortunate ones must relearn what real love is. Love is complex in its simplicity and elegance. Its form can take on hard work and money for the bills or a compliment. Some days it is a simple hug. Other times it is a bouquet of the most exquisite flowers. Love can seem as insignificant as a phone call just to check in.

Love is saying I do and knowing you mean it, for life. It is showing your partner they deserve the best. Love is trusting that he will always be there, no matter what you throw at him. Love is working on your relationship, even when you would rather avoid the ugliness. It is saying you are sorry when you know you are wrong. It is letting go of past hurts. Love is butterflies in your stomach.

Love is a new born baby. It is getting up in the middle of the night when you think you can’t possibly sleep any less. It is nursing even when your toes curl at the sound of her cry. It is ensuring that they get the best that life has to offer. It is a home where they are free to be them. They are free to feel and express themselves. It is a home where their parents openly express their love for one another, themselves and their children. It is a haven. Love is showing up to life and participating in your children’s life.

Love is your child looking deep into your eyes. Love is knowing the reflection is a magnitude of love that takes your breath away. It is being your children’s hero just because you are their mother. Love is pulling your child in closer when they are throwing up and worrying only if they are ok, not if your clothes are ruined. Love is holding it together for your family. Love is the understanding of the power that you wield as a parent, that your words can harm or change the course of their lives. Love is knowing that just being you is enough in their eyes.

Love is action. It is true acceptance of ones self. It is the ability to self examine, brutally and honestly. It is the ability to make change, to work on oneself to enrich the lives of your loved ones and yourself. Love is knowing your strengths and weakness, and when to bow out and when to soldier on. It is knowing when to say yes and when to say no. Love can make you hurt in your soul and can make a horrible voice sound melodious. Love is kindness without expectation.

Love is laughing hysterically with your siblings in a way that you can’t laugh with anyone else. Love is knowing exactly how your sibling will react in a situation, because you would do the same thing. It is knowing that the sibling relationship is the longest in one’s life. Love is celebrating the triumphs of life with your sister and crying with her when her heart is broken. It is celebrating your brother’s new baby and mourning the loss of his dog. Love is sharing all the things your father taught you before he has major surgery. It is sending flowers to your mom because you know it would make her day.

Love is boundless and endless in its most unconditional form. Love is having faith that everything will work out in the end, just as it should. It is the most powerful force in all the universe.


This post was written as a submission for the February Write-Away Contest over at Scribbit, on the topic of ‘Love’.

3 comments:

tiff said...

That was beautiful.
You have captured it so well.

Marlee said...

What a wonderful essay! :)

Scribbit said...

That was sweet--thanks so much for entering it!