Although LOVE is only a four-letter word, it is a big enchilad Although LOVE is only a four-letter word, it is a big enchilada.

A song says that love makes the world go-round. Love makes the world go-round.

With the Hallmark day of love coming tomorrow, I decided to talk about love. On Thursday, Karen is going to talk about passion.

The word ‘love’ is bounced back and forth like a shuttlecock in a badminton game. “Love you’, ‘love ya’.

I think it is used more often today, in such instances, because in past generations, the talk of love was limited. Perhaps lovers whispered the word love, or maybe not. I have heard stories form people who said that their parents hadn’t expressed words of love to them. I know that my parents and I didn’t use the words, verbally, very often.

It wasn’t until my mother was diagnosed with leukemia, that we stepped it up. Time was limited, and the assumption of love at least in my mind, wasn’t enough.

Parental love is unique. Children yearn for their parent’s love, don’t they? And there is a fear, or there was for me, that somehow, someway, if I did something bad, I would lose their love. And that would be like losing life.

In time, I learned that my parent’s love for me, was pretty solid, although I did wonder if there were times my mother wavered. But as I have gotten older and thought about things, I sense those were my insecure feelings of our relationship.

My girlfriends and I would talk of love early on. Songs spoke of love and as you know, all songs are real and like the written word, are the truth, (yep, naive), and so we got on the puppy love train and wondered if Mike or Steve or Larry of Richie, loved us as much as we loved them. Never mind the fact that we might not have ever even spoken to Richie, or Larry, Steve, Mike, Or Paul, (as in McCartney), but in our minds and hearts and dreams, love mattered.

I would see girls in high school, going steady and standing with their backs against lockers, with their steady boyfriend standing in front of them, in such a way that I knew it was surely love.

I wanted that.

There was a boyfriend I had in high school. He was a few years older. I liked him, fine, but it wasn’t love. He told me that he loved me, and I didn’t know what to say, so I said, “I love you, too.”

But I couldn’t keep up with the pretense of loving him, so I broke up. One boy I dated in high school, I remember this clearly, was sitting with me on the couch in our TV room. I was sick with mono. He had his arm around me. I noticed that he was fiddling with his clashing. I thought, ut-oh. And before you knew it, he had his class ring off and he said, “I am not sure that I know what love is, but I think I love you.”

It was fun wrapping the ring with dental floss and covering it with nail polish, but although I liked him I couldn’t elevate it to love, and I was such a jerk, that I had a friend of mine return the ring to him.

When I met Nick, the first week of college, it wasn’t love at first sight. I thought he was cute. But it took time to get to love.

Because, really, what was love? What did love mean? If you loved someone, did that mean you were going to marry and be together forever? Was your heart supposed to burst through your chest? I didn’t know.

But slowly, I found myself thinking of Nick … a lot. I smiled when I saw him. I waited by the phone for calls. there was an ease. And when I looked into his eyes, something said, you can love this man. go ahead. Try it.

And I did. That was in 1970. We celebrated our 45th wedding anniversary last September.

The fastest I have felt love, actually felt my heart burst, was each time I gave birth. I had never experienced the physical change of my heart, my being, when I saw that baby.

Like many parents, today, I tell my children and grandchildren, frequently, that I love them. I know that they know I do, but even saying the words, makes my heart sing, just as hearing their voices, does. And that goes for my grandchildren, too.

There are friends that I love. I have learned that love feels good. It makes life better and to reserve love, to hold it at bay, is a loss for me. There are friends that I haven’t seen in years, that I love. There are relationships, friendships, that don’t have that benefit of history or time, but I have found that I love that person. I have that affection and desire to be in that person’s life, and have them in mind.

A friend once told me, “Don’t love anything that can’t love you back.” I used to think that was a very wise way to look at things. And I understand what that means. But I do allow myself to love some things that don’t love me back. Or, maybe love is an overstatement, but for me, I don’t think so. I love my morning ritual of a cp of hot tea and writing in the morning. I do love it. I love my bath at night, before I go to bed. I love feeding people. I love talking to people I don’t know.

These are some of the loves in my life, and I know those, so I can write about them. I also know there is unrequited love, and that love hurts sometimes. The world is filled with broken hearts, where love went wrong. I don’t think love can fix everything. I know that love can end, it can change, and turn into hate.

I also know that with love, comes heartbreak. Eventually, Nick or I will die, and one of us will have a broken heart.

But until that day, I will live with love and spread it as much as I can. Because as you know, love makes the world go-round.



One Comment Add yours

  1. And thanks for spreading your 💕. 🙏🏻😇

    Liked by 1 person

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