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| 1928 - 2010 |
My definition of love has been challenged of late. I have been told that my definition of love
is too deep, too extravagant, and too costly.
In response to this challenge, I began a search to find why I define
love in such an apparently unique way.
In this search, I looked to my family. My family is not perfect…never have been,
never will be. My family is crazy, but I know that my family loves.
My grandma is not like most grandmas. I’ve never seen her knit or crochet and we
didn’t usually get cookies fresh from the oven.
She didn’t always hug me and she was never overly sweet. However, my grandmother is a survivor. Life taught her from day one that it’s going
to be hard, people cannot be depended upon, and you’re on your own. Throughout her life people left her by death,
by neglect, and by abandonment. She
loved and she lost, but she survived.
When her husband left her with three kids, a mortgage and a divorce, she
put on her heels and marched to work.
She survived and she fought for her kids. While always being a survivor did save her
and her kids, it didn’t always leave her with the ability or knowledge of how
to show love. She loved…I know she
did…but she didn’t always act it out or communicate it.
Fast forward 40 years.
My grandfather that I had never met shows up completely
destitute, sick, and unable to take care of himself. In a decision filled with grace and mercy, my
mom and aunt take care of him. I never heard him say thank you and he never said I’m sorry.
He didn’t tell them that he loved them and he never told them that he was
grateful for them. And yet, they loved
him and served him until the end.
Fast forward another 10 years.
My grandma doesn’t know who I am. My grandma doesn’t know who her son and
daughters are...but my family loves her.
My grandma doesn’t remember how to swallow, put on her
shoes, or go to the bathroom. My grandma
didn’t know how to show love and now she doesn’t remember who she loves…but my
family loves her.
I watch my uncle move my grandma to her wheel chair even
though the pain shooting from his hip is intense enough to make a grown man
cry. I watch my aunt struggle to get my
grandma back in bed after finding her sitting on the floor next to her
bed. I watch my other aunt sit with my
grandma and hold her hand until she falls asleep. I watch my uncle change my grandma’s diaper,
just like she did for him years ago. I
watch my mom selflessly work for years tracking my grandma’s bills and doctors
and taxes and all the details my grandma can’t remember. I watch my family love.
My family knows how to love…it runs in them and through
them. They do not love because the
person receiving their love was kind to them, nor do they love because of what
that person can do for them. They love
with abandonment because that is the only way they know how.
My family has shown me that love is costly, love is deep,
and love is extravagant.
While I have seen pain, betrayal, and heartache because of
this love…I have also seen joy, hope, and peace. Love is extravagant, love is deep, and love
is costly. If love is shallow,
containable, and cheap– it isn’t love.
At this point, the question arises, “Isn’t G-d’s love free?” Absolutely not! His love is extravagant, it is deep, and it
is costly. “For God so LOVED the world
that He GAVE His one and only son…” His
love for us cost Him everything…and I’m positive that He did not love us
because we were able to give Him something or because He was better off with
us.
He loved us because He is love.
In the end, I define love as deep, extravagant and
costly. To those who accuse me of defining
love as an impossibility, my reply is to look at my family and to ultimately
look at the Creator and Definer of Love.
There is love…and I would not want it or define it in any other way.
Definition:
Love is patient, Love is kind
Love does not envy it does not boast…it is not proud
It is not rude, it is not selfseeking, it is not easily angered
Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth
Love always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
Love Never Fails.
Lizzie -- what a story. What a family you have. Thanks for sharing that lesson with us.
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