This morning I found myself lost in thought as I ran. This happens a lot. It is wonderful, as getting lost in my head helps me forget about the pain in my knees.
Today I started thinking about all the love in my life. I love a lot. I use the word love freely, and I mean it. I have been blessed with so much, so many, to love. I thought about all the different people I love. I thought about the different types of love.
I love my friends. I love them with the freedom that comes from not having to live with them. This love sounds silly, but it is true. I love my friends, and because I am not with them all the time, things that might drive me nuts, don’t. This love is comfortable. This love is joyful. This love is fun.
I love my siblings. I love them with a loyalty that defies reason. This love comes from a lifetime of shared memories, common experiences. This love is easy. This love I take for granted, I know that.
I love my parents. I really love my parents. I love them with a child’s love, even now, at 36. I still want, and strive for, their approval. This love is a grateful love. This love breaks my heart as I watch them age, become frail somehow. This love does not want to accept that someday they will not be there for me to tell them how much I love them. This love always has been, always will be.
I love my husband. I chose this love many years ago. I choose this love everyday. This love makes my pulse race. This is a love of willing compromise. This love is layered: emotional, physical, spiritual. This love changes, ebbs and flows, runs deep and quiet: sometimes, rages like a storm: sometimes. This is a great love.
I love my children. I love them with impossible, truly frightening intensity. This love protects. This love is tender. This love is primal. This is a mother’s love.
I love my Lord. This is a hard love for me. This love I strive to articulate, understand, accept. I am unworthy to even claim this love. This love humbles me. This love has saved me.