How do I love thee

"Everyone longs to be loved. And the greatest thing we can do is to let people know that they are loved and capable of loving.”  Fred Rogers

Love. So many kinds of love, but love is the greatest and most important feeling we can have for each other. 

What about compassion? What about sympathy? I think they are part of love.

I grew up in a family of loving people, especially my mother. To know her was to love her and she spread her love around to all of her seven children. Experts say that our last thoughts before we die are about those we love and who loved us. I remember my husband, Barry, telling me shortly before he died that while he was asleep he saw his father standing with open arms. His father had been gone for decades but in his son's last days on this earth, he saw his father welcoming him home. I only knew his father for a short time but was touched each time I saw his father hug Barry and kiss him goodbye when we left to go home.

Hospice workers say dying people call out Mama, Mother, and Daddy. It was said that George Floyd, as he lay dying with the policeman's knee on his neck, called out Mama. 

What does this say to us about what is important in life? I believe that parents must love and give love to their children so they can grow up caring about others in their lives. To love is to teach others to love.

I know a man who was terribly abused as a child by his mother. Because of this, he became a bully at school and was a mean kid. He had no friends. Looking back now as an old man, he is sorry for the things he did to others, but he had learned that behavior from his own mother. She was physically abusive chasing him with a knife! We learn first from our parents, the people who raise us. They are our role models even if they don't know it or seek to be.

Many times I heard someone in my family say "He has daddy's temper." 

As children, we saw our father use his belt on his sons when he was angry at them. My worst fear as a child was Daddy's anger. At night I heard him raise his voice when talking to Mother and I cringed in my bed. He had never hit her and I don't think he ever would. He adored her. But his voice spoke volumes to a little girl in a bedroom who was trying to go to sleep. Years later when I talked to my mother about this, she said he was not mad at her, just upset about something concerning the farm and he raised his voice because of that.   

 

He learned from his mother and older brothers to discipline with hitting. And his sons used that same method on their sons. My brother said he saw one of our uncles jerk his little boy up off the floor and use a belt on him for nothing important at all. My brother wanted the toy from his little cousin and he began whining and saying, It's mine. When it was not handed over immediately, the small child was beaten by his father. 

No one in our family was ever left with bloodshed, but some were left with bruises, and feelings of shame, hurt, and resentment that will never go away. My father was the kind who used the belt without giving the child a chance to be heard. I am the only one of the seven kids who never got a spanking from him. I don't know why I was spared. 

I do know that I did my best to stay out of his way and not draw any attention from him. However, that ended when I was older. On more than one occasion he lost his temper with me and we ended up in a confrontation that surprised me. But when I stood up to him and was not wilted down by his rage, he calmed down enough to hear me speak. On one of those times, he actually came to me and tried to bribe me into forgiving him. I was leaving for college and he came to me and tried to press some folded bills into my hand. I was stubborn and very hurt by what he had said to me. I refused his money and left in a huff.

I grew up thinking he didn't love me even though my mother told me many times that he did. He could be so funny and clever with his stories about his childhood, his friends, and his family members. I loved that side of him. 

Many years after he died, my brother told me things my daddy said about me that showed he did love me. He didn't know how to express his love or show how he felt about us. I am sure his parents never taught him that. His generation of men was supposed to be stoic and strong, not emotional.

I am deeply grateful for my loving mother and my older sister who made me know that no matter what, they were there for me. I never doubted their love. When my baby sister was born, I loved her more than anything. We were inseparable almost all of our lives and now, today, we are still together most of the time.

Lillian in this photo is our aunt, sister to our father. The old house was where our family moved to on the farm. It was in a terrible state. Baby Gay caught pneumonia and almost died there. A new house was built as soon as possible. 

Family is an essential part of happiness for me. As we all grew older my brothers showed their love for me in various ways. All four of them had an impact on who I am today. They were not perfect but they did have the best traits of their father and mother. They were caring and good people. They were hard-working men who put their families first. They all had a soft spot for their little sisters. 

They admired their father for overcoming the harshness of life that caused him much pain and sadness. The loss of his father when he was only ten years old. Having to go to work in a mill when he was still a child. Having to endure the restrictions and humiliations of overseers at the mill. My brothers tried to be people he would be proud of and I think they succeeded. 

In a family where the word love was seldom spoken, it permeated every cell of our bodies and we knew we were loved by each other and by Mother. I smile as I remember that three of my four brothers said to me at least one time, "I love you" when they were older, married with children, and during a serious moment in our lives. My sister, Gay, said they said those words to her more than once. She said Daddy even told her he loved her and teared up when she was leaving home to live in California. I just learned that this week. 

I wish that all families could show love without feeling they have to shower their children with material things. It seems to me that young people today are taught that to be successful, they have to become rich and famous. They must have expensive cars, expensive homes, jewelry, and massive amounts of attention from others.  On social media, the goal seems to be how many people you can get to LIKE you. That is not how we show and accept love. 

I don't know what parents hope to gain with all this but I think in the end, when all is over in this life they will only remember those who truly loved them, the love they gave to others, and the exquisite feeling of being loved. 

I am grateful that I was always loved and still, even today, I feel the love of others. I love my friends and family. I tell them and I try to show it. 

What are your feelings about love?

Was love a word often spoken in your home?