It takes one to know one

A few days ago I was having a talk with my son which ended in me hugging him good-night and telling him how much I loved him.  “I love you more than you know”, I said.  Then it hit me.  At that moment I truly understood the love a parent has for their child.  And if I felt that way about my child, then my parents surely felt that way about me.

It’s not that I ever felt my parents did not love me, but I often felt I was more of a nuisance to them than anything; underfoot and in the way.  I was the last of seven children, with the former baby of the family being six years older than me.  I was the afterthought when the oldest children were moving into their teenage years.  My mother was 39 years older than me.  My father was 47 when I was born, nearly the same age I am now.  They were tired, and I don’t blame them for being so.

My parents were not outwardly affectionate towards each other or towards their children.  It's not that they did not have a loving spirit, it's just they didn't express it in a touchy-feely way. When I became too big to be carried the greatest show of affection I received from my daddy was a light thump on my head or jiggle of my earlobe.  My mother explained to me once how that was his way of being affectionate.  It was like an “a-ha” moment for me.  From then on I had a better understanding and appreciation for the thumps and jiggles.

Just as we children were growing into our own independence, our grandmothers declined into dependence.  The nursery turned into a nursing home, and caring for their aging mothers made my parents, especially my mother, really, really tired.  

All of this is beginning to sound like a “woe is me, my parents didn’t love me” story, but like I said I never felt that way.  I had three sisters and three brothers who filled any voids I may have otherwise felt.

As I was saying, a revelation was handed to me the other night when I hugged my son.  How could I have ever doubted my parents’ love for me?  Parental love is an innate emotion as natural as breathing.  A parent’s love for their child is so deeply rooted in their soul it can cause them physical pain when their child is hurting. 

Through my love for my children I feel my parents’ love for me.  I also feel God's love for me.  If I hurt when my children hurt, imagine how strong God’s love is for us.  What does He feel when we are hurting? 

I’m beginning to understand things better now.