Love has many dimensions
11th February 2008
My first insights about love I learned from my mother. She patiently answered my inquiries, explaining in terms I could understand that love is multi-dimensional and that love for others can be equal but different. Even as a child I struggled with the “fairness for all” issue, asking if she loved me, my sister, or my dad more. I was hoping she loved me the most, but she always said, gently but firmly, that she loved us equally but differently.
Not exactly the answer I wanted, surely I was her favorite, but her explanation helped me understand her love was not a competition and she would always have love enough to share. Not everyone is blessed to learn life’s basics from such a caring teacher, although her wisdom did not always impress me.
She had a few one-liners that were annoying. “It’s only because I love you that I have to punish you.” The solution as I saw it was simple, love me a little less and we’ll both be spared some pain. Or “My punishing you hurts me more than you.” I wanted to yell, “Want to bet?” but even with limited worldly experience, I sensed that remark was not appropriate. And the all-time contradiction to a child, “I love you but I don’t like you!” Well, I didn’t like her either at those times so we were even! But I was the only one keeping score.
My parents were firm but fair, and I always knew they loved me. But not everyone had my best interests at heart. Or maybe they did initially, but young love is fickle and not necessarily fair. There was the bruised heart, the broken heart, and the knowing heart, knowing love was going to walk away without looking back. My friends and I consoled ourselves poetically, repeating as necessary, “It is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved.” The words were more profound than our thoughts.
Along the way I learned mom was right, love has many dimensions. Sometimes it has little to do with feelings, sometimes feelings of infatuation are an obstacle, and sometimes love starts out as like and grows quietly over time. It can grow forever, as love isn’t designed for completion.
With the birth of each child, I learned love is never depleted, but not even love takes away fatigue or frustration. Love isn’t something to be measured, but my children tried their best to find ways to prove individual theories as to whom Mom loved the most. Sometimes the best love can do is show up each day and other times it comforts an ailing parent, soothes hurts among siblings, and remembers wedding vows long after the thrill is gone.
Genuine love, the enduring, real kind, doesn’t give up as time leaves its mark on appearances or challenges arise that were never part of the original plan. And love does mean having to say you’re sorry. Many times.
Love multiplies not divides and isn’t reserved for a chosen few. But it must be expressed, not just once, but many times. Three simple words, “I love you,” but they can change lives forever for those to whom they’re said and for those who say them and live what they mean.
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