I know he doesn't read this. I know really no one reads this. Especially since, I have only recently shared this little part of my life with a few favorite friends. So it seems that I am really doing this writing and documenting for me and that is okay, it is a nice freedom.
But as I drink my tea and consider Valentine's Day, I feel compelled to write something about the man I consider my Valentine with or without his eyes ever viewing it.
When you get to my stage in life - the stage with babies and young kids - you learn about parental love. What I mean is, you become a parent and find out that you love your children in a deep, new way that never before seemed possible. You learn that love doesn't seem like a big enough word. And that the love for children is so strong it feels like an extension of yourself. Like an arm or a heart, something vital for survival. And this love feels completely invulnerable and unshakeable and indestructible. I could never imagine not loving my children.
And although this love is amazing and all consuming at times, it makes me think about a different kind of love. The love that brought me to those children. The love I chose. The love that chose me.
As my daughter can't get enough fairy tales like The Little Mermaid and Cinderella, I wonder why those romances end right when the marriage starts. Because I can honestly say that the married love I have now is the love I would choose over and over any of those fairy tales, any day.
This not so fairy-tale-like married love is a deliberate love, a thoughtful love, and a love of choice. It isn't the whirlwind of a strong new love and attraction, a love that you feel is way beyond your control. It isn't that I do not feel my love for my husband is strong but I do feel it isn't a given. I do feel it is within my control and I have the power to give it life or not. It is a love that I have to work on, a love that I want to work on, a love that feels like a part of me but that somehow seems more vulnerable. It is a love that requires us to choose to be kind and committed and choose to see our love communicated in small ways, like making each other's coffee or pumping up a low tire on a car. Because these small things may be what there is time and energy for that day. Perhaps this love can be described as less exciting but it is easily argued that it is more real and more fulfilling.
I think about my parent's love and their love for me. My love for my children and love for my husband. I think about the circle of this. And I remind myself to consider each and every day how these loves have endured so many years. And then I choose my love again, each day. I choose him.
you are so sweet. Thanks for reading it. I read your blog all the time...xx
Posted by: Big Sky Days | 02/15/2011 at 10:29 AM
I read it! xx
Posted by: innerpickle | 02/14/2011 at 06:06 PM