How Deep Is Your Love?

In the quiet moments of the long car ride back to Maryland (when the kids were either sleeping or deep into their movie), I had time to reflect on the past week.  Of course I thought about my mother, the love she holds so dear for her husband of 50 years; I thought about the sadness reflecting off my siblings' eyes and how I wished to never see that sorrow in their brown eyes ever again.  I thought about my relationship with my father - how we loved hard, batted heads on occasion, and always came back to the love - it never went away.  And then I thought about my in-laws, mainly, Chuck, Dana and Kathy, and my heart ballooned with love and pride for them.  Love and pride.

My sister Corinne, and my brothers John and Cliff hit pay dirt when they married their spouses.  It is difficult for me to describe without some disbelief and envy because I had never seen that kind of love or respect in my own short marriage, and I suppose that is why I'm divorced and why they are so successfully married and will continue to stay successfully married.  I observed them - how they watched their spouses, how they grieved their father-in-law, how they stepped up and helped all of us with everything.  I watched their exhausted bodies and eyes work.  The respect for the family is natural - they put themselves second, not first this past week (and truly, most of the time).  Their love is deep.

My sister called me sometime during the tumultuous week, crying.  She wasn't crying over the loss of dad, although that is probably what drove the emotion, but she was grieving for me - for my lack of support by not having (or ever having) a spouse like Chuck, Dana or Kathy.  She was upset because she thought that because of my experiences, I was closing myself off to that kind of love.  She said that she prays that one day I will allow another person to love me the way I deserve to be loved, the way I've always deserved to be loved, and through tears, she pleaded with me to know that it is out there, that there are people out there like this: people like my dad, my mom, my sister, my brothers, my in-laws, who have a depth to their love that goes beyond romance, entertainment or even contentment, that soars through the turmoil, the arguments and the bad times and always, always wades through the deep waters of what is real and true.

I was tired after the eight hour drive.  We got home, we took our shower and baths, put on our PJs and watched a movie.  After that, we cuddled in my bed (my wonderfully inviting bed) and fell fast asleep.  This morning, at 7:45, the kids were up and loud and bouncy and incredibly beautiful.  Paige rubbed my back and whispered in my ear after I grunted and turned back over, "Mommy, you go to sleep again.  I'll feed and let out the dogs and wake you up at 8:15."  Oh yes, that's beautiful, a good love. I smiled, kissed her, told her I loved her and listened as she ushered the crazy dogs downstairs and explained the situation to Tony.  He ran back to the bedside and kissed me on the cheek and they tiptoed downstairs.  At 8:15, I heard Tony coming up the stairs, cursing Enzo who was bouncing beside him.  When I opened my eye, he had a mug of coffee for me.  He placed it on the nightstand and rubbed my forehead and said, "Enzo made me spill some, I'm sorry, but here's your coffee Mommy."

My dad brought me coffee every day I was home on the weekends from college or law school, exactly the same way.

Tony did it without thought, without motive, but simply because he knows how to love.  Paige did what she did this morning without thought, without motive, but simply because she knows how to love.  And that makes me proud and happy, and I know without a doubt that, like Chuck, Dana and Kathy, they know how to be a Fuzzy.  They got the Fuzzy gene for love.   Thank God for that.