How Do You Measure Love?

My niece, Emma, and I have a $10 bet on who loves the other more.  Me or her.

I texted her “love  you”.

She texted back.  “love you too.”

I texted.  “Love you more.  Wanna bet.”

She texted back.  “Yeah.  $10.”

I texted.  “I’ll bet, but how do we measure?”

Is it possible to measure how much you love someone?

I know how much I love her.  My heart bursts with love for her, but can’t put that love into any kind of measurement.  It’s impossible.

I can show her that I love her.  I can pick on her until she gets mad at me and tells me (angrily) to knock it off.  I can keep hugging her until I get the same result as picking on her.  I can wink or smile at her.  I can kiss her on the check.  I can take her to the movies. I can buy her something at the mall.  I can spend time with her.  I can laugh with her.  I can send a card in the mail to let her know I’m thinking about her.  I can wipe away her tears.

But I can’t measure that love.

I know she loves me when she laughs when I say something funny or how she rolls her fifteen year old eyes when I say something weird.  I know when she walks past me and says “poke” as she pokes me lightly in the belly.  I know when she gives me a long, tight hug when she goes home.  I know when she takes the time to text me back.

But I can’t measure that love.

Does she love me more than I love her?  Since I can’t jump into her body and see things through her eyes and feel things with her heart I guess I will never know.

I can only believe.

So who wins the bet?

I guess we both do because we love each other.   We both are winners because we are lucky to have the other.

And, yeah, I’ll give her the $10 — because I love her.

 

 

 

 

My Mom Is My World

I think the older we get the more we appreciate our mother.  We appreciate what she sacrificed so that we could have what we needed growing up.  We appreciate the lessons she taught (even if we didn’t understand why til now).  We appreciate the words of wisdom, the wiping away of tears, smiles and words of encoragement.

I don’t have any kids so maybe it took me longer to realize how many things she did sacrifice for me and my siblings and what it meant overall to the well being of our family.

I was always a daddy’s girl.  When I was younger my dad came first and my mom came second, but the older I became the more I confided in her and spent time with her and the more important she became.  As I grew older I think my mom became more important and my dad slowly took second place.  It’s not that I wasn’t a daddy’s girl anymore it’s just that he couldn’t give me advice on wifely things or give me the female perspective on menopause.

My dad passed away over two years ago.  I have realized over this time that my mom was the rock and still is the rock of our family.   Her love and devotion to all of us is the glue that holds our family together.  She is always there for us whenever we need her — day or night — to listen or to help us with whatever we need help with.  Her strength helped us grieve my dad’s death and keep his memory alive.

As I get older I realize how much she has shaped my world and I wouldn’t trade her for the world.  I bought her a heart shaped piece of wood that had the following words written on it:

To the world you are a mom, but to me you are the world.

My mom is my world.

Thanks, Mom!  I love you!