Without any exception I can recall, I have felt loved in every conceivable family context–holiday gatherings, meals, visits and interactions with parents, siblings, children, grandchildren–in every case, regardless of what might be going on, I am never in doubt about whether I’m loved. The best example of this I can remember is this: when I was divorced over forty years ago, I worried briefly that some in my family might disapprove and react accordingly, but it never happened.
I know that that some people rarely experience this kind of love and acceptance, even in their families–or perhaps especially in their families–and I don’t take it for granted.
(Author’s update)
When I first responded to this prompt, for some reason buried deep within my clearly-addled brain, I failed to begin with the single most remarkable, loving relationship in my life: my marriage to Carolyn, my wife of more than 40 years. This woman has been my constant encourager, she has supported my dreams, she has shouldered huge responsibilities in being the mother to our children, the grandmother to our grandchildren, and she has unselfishly And unconditionally loved me for more than four decades. Here’s a representative example: when our kids were in diapers, and there were other tasks to be done, she always offered me the choice of which task to do—change the diaper, or say, read the bedtime story to the older child(ren), knowing that I would choose the alternate task over diaper-changing any time of the day or night. She set aside her own preferences in deference to mine. Never mind the oafish-ness of my resistance to poop clean-up—she loved me, unreservedly, no holds barred, and somehow still loves me this way after all these years. She is the best one of us. —DH
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(Posted in response to 1/17/2024 prompt)
doug heacock: words 