Valentine’s Day: I Love You

Posted by Melanie in Family, Mel & Me, Our Story | 1 comment

Some days I am overcome by love.  When I pull up at the school and let my kids out,  I watch them tromping off with their lunch boxes and backpacks and my heart fills up until it overflows and fills my eyes with tears.

I love being married and seeing how good we can make it and how fast we can recover from when we make it bad–when we mess up and have to fix it or get over it.

I read a friend’s blog recently.  He was describing the death of his lover.  His raw words of love touched me deeply.  It was as if he opened his heart on the page–splayed open for everyone to see.  It was just love.  I loved him for the open-hearted love he shared.

I watch my parents aging and I want to ease their way.  I want them to stay eternally young like they are in my mind.  I want to be able to spare them the agony of growing older.  I want to protect them from the elements of time and my heart fills with love and compassion for their humanness and frailty.  I love them so much and yet my love can’t keep them from experiencing their challenges.

I think of two family members who got mad at me and don’t talk to me anymore.  On bad days I protect myself with anger and on good days I remember that their anger can’t make me stop loving them.  Memories of them fill my heart and I surreptitiously send loving thoughts their way and wish them well.

I love dinner parties.  There is something about the echo of laughter over food that fills my heart.  I love the people I laugh with.  Especially if they think my jokes are funny.

I love saying I love you to friends.  It was something I realized years ago.  It did once go bad when I told my friend Mara I loved her in a phone message.  Her husband listened to the message and showed up at McDonald’s where our kids were having a play-date.  He accused us of having an affair.  We weren’t.  I thought of myself as straight at the time.  But either his possessiveness or her embarrassment was the end of that friendship. It was all kind of surreal.  But I persist in saying I love you to my friends–damn their husbands.  It feels nice.

I love talking about love.

I love gritty late night edgy love and sweet heartfelt sunshiny good morning love.

I love vulnerable raw love and I love lay on the couch watching Dexter with my head on your lap love.

I love sweet snuggly children climbing into bed in the morning for love.

I love falling in love and I love being in love.

In some weird masochistic way I love trying to get over love–it has taught me so much about myself.

Our church starts each service by saying, “Whomever you are, whoever you love, you are welcome here.”    Sounds about right…