CBQ#560

Which is greater, love of one’s parents, one’s children, one’s spouse, or one’s friend?

Love comes in various sizes and definitions.  Unfortunately we do not all define love the same way when it comes to relationships.  My initial response was the parents’ love toward their children but I know for a fact that not all “parents” feel the same way about their children that they would make the ultimate sacrifice for them – even if that means teaching them with “tough love” which is often harder on the parent than the child.

 Some people may have children but have absolutely no parenting skills or feel positive emotions toward their children.  Some people don’t know how as they were never taught themselves.  That goes the same for spouses.  Some will make small sacrifices for the other – such as cleaning the floor or ironing their shirts – it’s a sacrifice when one person does it not because of obligation but out of respect and love for the other. Of course those are just examples of small sacrifices.  Rallying around a person who has changed either mentally or physically due to an injury or aging - one spouse doting on the other.  I have seen several examples of that from both spouses and parents.

So many relationships start based on physical appearance or attraction. That doesn’t mean the relationship won’t turn into a strong love for one another.  I love Ben Wilcox explanations of love and affection found in this video.

 There are obviously different degrees of love.  Your love for your parents or children is not going to be the same as the love you have toward your spouse.  Nor is your love for pizza going to amount to what you may feel toward a person.  Hopefully your spouse is your best friend though you will have so many others that you can call friend.  You may love them all – but still different degrees of love toward each person.  Love is more than affection.  Love takes work on both sides.

https://www.theguardian.com/news/2019/
feb/11/what-is-love-and-is-it-all-in-the-mind

Dash LF#6 Irma & Bob and Mom & Dad

           I loved my brother’s descriptions (here) of a couple who had lived in my mom’s ward for most of Corey’s life. I had known the family who had lived in the house before them.  Lily Black and I were very close friends – until after she moved and we had lost touch. 

          I don’t know if I was still in high school when Howards moved into the house where Blacks had lived.  I don’t recall how many children they had as Blaine was the only one living at home.  He had an older brother who was serving a mission.  I met him for the first time when I was going to Ricks College in Rexburg, Idaho.  He had come to drop something off.  I don’t even remember what.  I recognized him as I thought he looked so much like his dad.

          I’m guessing that Bob and Irma were in their sixties when they had moved into our neighborhood.  Over the years we learned a bit about where they were from, how they met, why Bob’s speech sounded as though he were struggling to get the words out.  Everybody in the ward had to have known that they were from Logan and had been raised in much different generation in which things were always a certain way and there was no change.  They missed seeing the world evolve around them.

          But oh, what love and devotion each of them had for the other. We especially noticed it with Bob after Irma had surrendered her mind to Alzheimer’s.  She became fragile and he kept her at home and doted on her.  I did not see them so much after I got married, but had heard about how each of them was doing.

          My own parents saw the world differently.  They knew life outside of Logan, Utah.  They experienced change.  They were aware of diversity.  And they loved each other every bit as Bob and Irma loved one another.  Many years before Bob took care of Irma with her unstable mind, my mom had catered to my dad’s needs as his brain stopped sending signals to control his muscles.  Both couples experienced unconditional love for one another – the kind of love I would be willing to adapt into my own marriage.  Making our love stronger with each passing year and giving to one another more than 100%. 

What Is Real?

Velveteen Rabbit has never really been my favorite story, but I do like this thought from it:

"What is REAL?" asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by

side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room. "Does

it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?"

"Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that

happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just

to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real."

"Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit.

"Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. "When

you are Real you don't mind being hurt."

"Does it happen all at once, like being wound up," he asked, "or bit

by bit?"

"It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse. "You become. It

takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who

break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept.

Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved

off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very

shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are

Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand."

"I suppose you are real?" said the Rabbit. And then he wished he had

not said it, for he thought the Skin Horse might be sensitive. But the

Skin Horse only smiled.

Title: The Velveteen Rabbit

Author: Margery Williams

I like the comments made on this blog.  It's great to be real