I think about that word quite often ever since we had this discussion. We use the word, "love," quite frequently in everyday conversation, and yet, my son, at age 5, understands that it is also a word reserved for a special type of relationship that no longer exists between his father and I.
Without hesitating, I told my son that night that I still love his father, and that I don't love him, or anyone else, because I expect anything in return.
- I love ice cream.
- I love my new shoes.
- I love your new haircut.
- I love it when you smile.
- I love that song.
- I love getting hugs.
- I love watching the sunset.
- I love singing my son to sleep.
To me, love is acceptance, understanding and appreciation. I am very grateful for the role certain people play in my life.
I know that loving others is all about accepting them for who they are, knowing that they are perfect in every way, my ex-husband included.
I love the fact that he calls me just to tell me how our son's day was. I love that he and our son met me for breakfast to have a Family Meeting over the weekend. I love my son's father for being such an amazing dad and putting our son first at all times.
I love the fact that I don't have to worry about a thing when my son is with his dad. I can sleep in, or go to bed early and trust that our son is taken care of and will be back with me when it's "my time," to be with him again. I love the fact that my son gets the best of both worlds. He learns so much from me and just as much from his father. He truly is lucky to have such loving and passionate parents.
Just recently, after another discussion about self-acceptance, my son looked in the mirror and said, "I love you." Now, when I say these same words to him he responds, "I love me too," and I know that he truly gets it.
I love our family. The three of us are unique, beautiful and perfect. What's not to love?