It is Still Love.

I had a dream in which my mother passed away. My father wrote a love letter to her entitled, “My Wife.” It was beautiful. I thought it to be strange because he didn’t show it before.

But in reality, he does. Everyday. I understand the pain and frustration he goes through. I do. I’m just now learning to understand and appreciate the ways in which he shares his love.

For one, his hobby, now turned profession, is genealogy. He has studied, traveled and written for over 20 years and has written books encapsulating the history of not only his family, but my mother’s as well. Something no one in our immediate family fully appreciated.

That is one enormous way of sharing his love. Only one of many others. And I sit here some days bitter over the lack of understanding about ways in which I choose to share my love, I’m ashamed. Who am I to judge the ways in which someone chooses to express their passion, love and meaning in life? Who am I? I know what judgement feels like. I know what being underappreciated feels like. It hurts. Deeply.

No, it doesn’t look like mine. And it’s sometimes contradictory. But it doesn’t mean it’s not love. The ways in which we communicate love are endless.

So, if you feel unloved today remember this: it may not be a matter of lack, but more so a matter of recognizing love in its many forms.

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