You know… that alluring sensation for which we all yearn, often revealing itself in many colors - the gentle, reassuring hug from a parent, an adoring gaze from one’s child, the unbreakable bond with your pet, an immortal union of souls. These feelings are priceless. They lend comfort in the knowledge that we somehow belong and reassure us that from our roots will undoubtedly emerge intention.
Both my mother and father loved me deeply, each in their own way. I was the core of Daddy’s world, just as he was of mine, and Mom adored me much as if I’d slid straight out of the womb with silky, white feathers sprouting from the center of my back. I shared ten years on this earth with my father and forty with Mom. Never once did they criticize me. Never once did they believe that I wasn’t capable of soaring. My young wings were merely an extension of their own. Although I lost both of my parents to unspeakable acts, my father to suicide and my mother to mental illness, I was always a loved child – even despite my mother’s ailment and its ensuing tempest, she always genuinely loved me. It was the greatest gift my parents ever gave me - one so powerful that it penetrated space and time, filling the empty cavern of my budding, infant heart as its soft petals unfurled while I lay sleeping in my mother’s arms. I cherish this gift beyond measure; it has fortified the essence of who I am and nurtured within me the strength to construct a portal for my own love, so that it may continue to flourish.
I firmly believe that those among us who have never received love, true love, are, sadly, not capable of understanding its meaning, let alone skilled at passing it on -- just one of the many reasons why the role of a parent is so paramount. When you love your child, it may feel as though it is a joy experienced only by two. Not so. The simple act of giving love to one is sure to multiply… exponentially.
Love on, Ya’ll
p.s. A huge thank you to Jennifer for allowing me to be heard on her wonderful blog!
aka T.H. Waters