The little girl brushed the bangs out of her eyes as she hunched over the small, wooden desk. “Red or yellow?” she wondered aloud as she reached for the crayon box and then painstakingly sketched the words on the carefully folded construction paper. She thought she knew what those words meant as she proudly carried the card home just in time for Mother’s Day. It is all so simply expressed in three little words: “I Love You”.
Her childhood world was filled with some sadness but also with fairy tale stories of paper dolls and princesses being rescued by valiant princes named “Charming,” with Ken and Barbie living happily in their dream house, with hopes that the stories she created would come true. Teenage years introduced first crushes and first kisses and a myriad of “chick flicks” watched with friends on Friday nights. One movie which the teenage girls watched over and over was an old romantic film titled “Love Story”. The girls dreamily watched as the main character explained that “Love means never having to say you’re sorry.” What was a girl to do but wait quietly for her own knight in shining armor to ride in on a white horse and whisk her away? High school is supposed to be all about romance and junior prom, but it turned out to be a bit more complicated for her. It is so simple when portrayed on a television screen. It might be wonderful for the rest of the world, but it wasn’t going to happen for her. She thought she knew, but real life had temporarily discolored the pictures in her head.
The pigtails had long ago given way to the “big hair” style of the 1980’s. She looked at her reflection in the mirror and sprayed more hairspray onto the already-stiff bangs,He had held her hand. He had kissed her. He had brought her flowers. He said and did all the right things. They spent every possible moment together, and she glowed with infatuation. He was perfect for her, and she caught a glimpse of hope. Could it be true? Could this be real? She wondered if she knew.
Standing on the tallest hill on campus, looking down on the city lights he put his arms around her and whispered, “I love you”. She had barely had time to respond when he added, “will you marry me? It was a simple question that required a one-word answer. But this was the question that she didn’t think she would ever hear. It took her completely by surprise and left her speechless. Moments later, after coming back to her senses and replying in the affirmative, she excitedly dialed the telephone to share her good news with her parents. All grown up and so much more mature since high school, she certainly understood “love” now. The groom was perfect, the wedding was perfect, and life was going to be perfect. She just knew it.
“Please do something!” she cried, squeezing her husband’s hand a bit tighter, “It hurts!” With tears in his eyes, this young man glanced at the beeping monitor, swept the hair off of her sweaty face and reassured her. “This contraction is almost over. You can do this.” The memory of the pain dissipated as the tiny infant was placed on her abdomen. Mother focused on her tiny daughter’s eyes, and she would never again be the same. “So, this is what it means to love someone”, the new mother pondered as she cuddled with her miraculous child. Now she undoubtedly knew. Mother love meant loving someone more than herself. Despite physical and emotional pain, mother love cannot be broken. She thought she knew all there was to know as this new love transformed her.
Providence handed three more babies into the mother’s arms. Each miraculous and beautiful moment of birth was unparalleled with newly awakened feelings of love for a person heretofore not known. “Now I remember you,” the woman mumbled as she held each infant in her arms, vowing to never let them go. No matter how long or noisy the days were or how fiercely her babies fought it, the world was at peace for a few moments every day as the mother watched her babies sleep. Love was exhausting, yet tender in those days. It was hard work to be a mother, but at least she knew that now.
Time marched quickly, and the first day of kindergarten started not a day too soon for each child, but much too soon for the mother. As each excited child grabbed their new backpack and ran enthusiastically for the playground, the young mother walked down the front steps, trying to hide the tears. Love now included learning to let go just a bit by trusting a child with classmates and teachers, desperately wanting to protect her babies from the painful realities of life but instinctively knowing that wasn’t possible.
Life settled into a routine of packing lunches, driving carpool and attending parent-teacher conferences. The act of getting all four kids out the door on time to catch the school bus seemed an impossible feat most days. Some days love meant having to say “No!” and stick with it when making hard decisions. It meant being unpopular, being avoided in public places on occasion and waiting up late for kids to come home. During this phase of life, just when she was wasn’t feeling quite so young or energetic, but certain she knew a bit of what the future would hold, her world was shattered with one phone call.
A few days later she watched as her children carefully placed their homemade cards into Grandma Pink’s casket. Her own feelings remained unwritten and unspoken because she didn’t know what to say. Somehow those three little words weren’t quite enough. How does a heartsick daughter express her emotions to a mother without a proper good-bye? Now, at last, perhaps she knew. Love, sooner or later, includes tears and an obituary. Love means clinging desperately to memories when that is all that is left.
“Do you have everything you need?” she asked her son as they packed the car on the morning of his wedding. Memories of her only son’s childhood flooded her mind and a lump caught in her throat. “I love you,” the mom repeated underneath invisible tears as the groom came down the hall to take his new wife’s hand. She knew somehow, instinctively, that it would never again be the same between them. It was as it should be. This is the woman she prayed her son would someday find, but she couldn’t help but feel as if she had lost something. Once again, she found herself reliving past adventures. Maybe now she knew. Love includes letting children grow up and move forward with their own lives. It means letting go even when every maternal instinct tells you to hold on tighter. It means realizing that childhood memories stay young much longer than children.
The hours of waiting seemed endless as she paced up and down the hall of the OB wing of the hospital waiting for the impending arrival. She wanted desperately to be able to take away her daughter’s pain as she sat next to her trying to distract her in between the painful contractions. It seemed this new little one was in no hurry to make her entrance. The tension in the room was nearly visible as the sudden decision was made to proceed with an emergency C-Section. The concerned, sleep-deprived, helpless mother crumbled on the couch in tears as she watched her daughter being wheeled away into the operating room. She felt paralyzed with the fear of a mother bear protecting her young cub. Moments later the nurse walked back into the room, carrying a tightly wrapped bundle of pure joy. The new grandmother cradled that tiny new soul in her arms and felt a connection she would later be unable to articulate. Just as Dr. Seuss described, her grandma heart grew three sizes that day. That very moment she first saw that little girl’s beautiful face, she thought she knew: Grandma love is perhaps the most fun love of all.
The nest that was so lovingly prepared and nurtured is now nearly empty, and the newlyweds of long ago are alone, sitting hand in hand in a quiet house. She once again finds herself trying to define what love really means. Her innocent ideas of being carried away by her “true love” have changed over the years. Marriage love certainly isn’t perfect, and she realized somewhere along the way that it is not all about flowers or romantic evenings. It’s about adjusting to change, making transitions and working through the seemingly impossible with God’s help. It is about friendship, inside jokes, tears, smiles and late-night phone calls. Love is everchanging and evolving. It is remembering and savoring the good times. It is learning from the hard times. It is moving forward even when it is terrifying to take that next step. Contrary to the famous line of the movie, a real-life love story definitely means saying “I’m sorry” over and over again. Love is having someone to share the journey with every day, whether or not the path is smooth or rocky. It is buying two tubes of toothpaste rather than worrying about how he squeezes the tube.
Love isn’t expensive, but it can be costly. Love is soul stretching, overwhelming vulnerability. It is watching proudly as your son plays football, outwardly cheering and inwardly cringing with every snap of the ball. Love is cheering for your daughter when she beats her best time at the swim meet and later hugging her through tears when she has to let go of her dreams because of injury. It is pacing in a waiting room after surgery trying to remain calm when fears are raging. It is watching and praying and hoping all will turn out of the best for those who we have tried to shelter and protect. Love is watching a youngest child experience life, trying to savor each step, all the while recognizing over and over again the many “last time” moments. It is giving birth on your 30th birthday and celebrating year after year with a beloved daughter. It is watching a son tenderly cradle his newborn baby boy, a grandson who will carry the family name. It is watching a daughter patiently read her favorite childhood stories to her own little girl. It is messy and complicated but so worth it.
Love is watching people hurt and feeling desperate, yet helpless to take away pain. Love is saying good-bye to past hurts and choosing to see the best in a spouse. Love isn’t always being together but making the most of the moments you are together. Love is about enjoying commitment and companionship in dark, lonely times. It is about hope and healing and sometimes feeling like your heart is being ripped out. It is accepting what life gives you even when you don’t like it. It is about paying bills, doing housework, facing broken dreams and replacing them with new dreams. It is about change and opportunity and reinvention.
It turns out that this mysterious phenomenon called love is a bit more complex than the little girl in pigtails ever imagined. Love is not a fairy tale. She has never been whisked off into the sunset on any white horses, but her life has been a magical adventure. She thought she knew all there was to know about love, and perhaps someday she will.
