I write about love nearly every day. That sweeping, pulse-pounding, heart-stopping love that happens when you’ve first met your soul mate. I write about heroes and heroines who are larger than life. Who even lay down their lives for love of each other. But in real life, it isn’t very often that we’re required to make such a sacrifice. But sometimes I think what love requires of us in everyday life can be even harder and just as beautiful. It’s all those little things that truly define what love is, and so I’ve compiled my own list of examples of love, and because it’s a broad scope, I included more than romantic love.
An eighty-year-old man who looks at his eighty-two-year old wife and says “You’re even more beautiful now than the day I met you.”
When your son gives you a hug because you’ve had a horrible day.
When you call your sister at work and tell her that your father had a stroke while on vacation and her first response is “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. You pack, I’ll call the plane for reservations…for both of us.”
A man who follows a five-pound dog around the yard at midnight, waiting for the dog to go potty, because the little dog just had surgery and anesthesia, and might fall over and pull the stitches. (The same man who swore he’d never own a dog small enough to be carried off by a hawk.)
When your son tells you that he’s moving out, and you tell him that you’re so proud of him for being independent, and excited for the start of his new life--when all you really want to do is hold onto him, cry, and beg him not to leave.
When you ask your mother, “Isn’t he the most beautiful, smartest baby you’ve ever seen?” And your mother answers, “Yes.” And means it.
When your friend cries harder than you at your father’s funeral. For your loss.
When you stay up all night with your child because they have a fever.
When the touch of your hand makes a child feel better…no prescription required.
When you would make a deal with the devil himself to take away the pain and suffering of someone you cherish.
When you’d rather suffer the pain instead of someone you love.
That huge boulder sitting on your chest, robbing you of the ability to think or breathe, when you lose someone you love.
That contented, joyous feeling after making love to the same person for the thousandth time.
When your child says, “You look tired, Mom. Let me take care of that for you.”
A man who buys you chocolates…just to see the look of bliss on your face when you open them.
Someone you can call at any time to ask for help or advice. And always gives it.
A friend who listens to you…and never judges.
A man who says, “I don’t care what anybody else thinks. Your opinion is what matters to me.”
I’m going to stop now, only because I would like to hear what “Love is…” to you.