True Love

I know I already posted about Valentine's Day, but-- hey-- I'm waiting to hear back about whether or not a HIDA scan has been scheduled, so... "free" time.  As I spend this afternoon, I've been browsing the internet for possible field trip locations (a planetarium) and been wondering what it would be like to actually be able to afford a fancy vacation (in Seoul).  It's interesting to me how smart the internet is:  Side-bars know everything about me, it seems, and know exactly how to tempt me to over-use my credit card.


Yeah, the internet is smart.  It also knows how to celebrate Valentine's Day.  Its ads come equipped with phrases like, "Earn a love-swept vacation for 2 to Paris."  "Give him something he'll really love this Valentine's Day."  "Show her you really care.  Roses on sale."...  Cool....  I like roses.  Never been to Paris, but I'm not really interested in changing that.  I wonder when these things became to depict "love."


I think love is one of those words we tend to over-use in our English language, but it's not necessarily our fault.  Other languages-- Spanish, Greek, and Korean, for example-- have many words and phrases to express "love."  There's love-- like the way we love that purse (but would never, ever pay more than $10 for it).  There's love-- like the way I would love to be able to eat chili-cheese fries someday.  There's love-- like the way I love my job.  There's love-- the way I love my friends.  There's love-- the way I love my family.  And there's love-- the kind that teenagers think they understand.


I think all of those kinds of love can be true love.  But, being bombarded as we are with "love" messages from the media, I can see how it's easy to get confused about what true love is.


As I see it, true love isn't winning trips to Paris, giving someone roses, or investing in uncomfortable lingerie.  True love isn't holding hands in public.  It isn't dinner and movie or snap-chatting.  To me, those are only artificial ways to represent (or misrepresent) our feelings.


In the romantic sense, sometimes true love is choosing to be alone.  I'm often asked by coworkers and acquaintances if I'd ever consider dating or marrying someone who's not Mormon.  My quick answer is, "No, because there'd be a conflict of culture, and it would be very difficult to raise a child under those circumstances."...  It's not a lie.  The more precise answer would be, "I need to be married in a Mormon temple where my [hypothetical] sweet-heart and I can be promised to each other for time and all eternity."  'Till death do us part' isn't what I want for my true love story.


True love is the way my dogs come running when they hear me come home from work.  Tails wagging.  Eyes shining.  Not for any reason.  Just because I came home, and I take care of them, and they love me.  Even the husky, stubborn as she is, insists on staying at arm's length whenever I'm home; and even chose not to run away when she had chances to.  (That's true husky love, friends.)  Their love may be instinctive, but it's true love nonetheless.


True love happens when a family member gets sick, and all the others wish it would have been them instead.  It's when the sick family member is thankful that they're the sick one and not someone else.  True love is when a family member drops everything to buy a $6 California roll for a sister, because that's the only thing she wants to eat.  It's coming to the defense of a brother or sister or son or daughter whose character is being attacked by bitter and unforgiving critics.  It's putting in sprinkler systems-- one after the other-- and building playhouses and swing-sets.  It's moving pianos and couches and washing machines.  That's another way that true love can look.


True love is hearing that a new niece or nephew is going to be a part of the family.  That their existence, even in the womb, is already so programmed in with the family unit that we can't remember what life was like without them.  It's loving those babies completely and totally.  It's watching their parents, though exhausted and worried, light up whenever their children enter the room.  Missing those little ones, holding a little sock longingly, tracing over little hand-smudges on the bathroom mirror, and planning the next big tea party-- that's love.  Watching those children pick dandelions for their mom, or watching them squeal when they see Grandma and Grandpa-- that's true love.


True love is my Gramies and Gramps.  It's when, later in life, they were in a car accident. Gramps was saying what he thought would be his final good-byes, yet-- upon hearing that his wife had suffered from a heart attack and needed surgery, his demeanor changed.  He demanded to be made healthy again so that he could be with his wife who needed him.  Love was watching Gramies recover from that surgery, because she demanded to be with her husband who needed her.  True love was watching them care for each other.  Even now, after his death, I feel my Gramp's love envelop their home.  True love is like that.


True love is a Savior who suffered every injustice, every misdeed, and every miserable experience-- through no wrong-doing of His own.  It was suffering those experiences to a point surpassing death, even suffering those things alone.  True love is a Heavenly Father who allowed all of it to happen so that all of us would know just how infinitely and perfectly we are all truly loved-- collectively and individually.


True love is believing that we are worthy of receiving and giving these expressions of love in return, as much as we are capable.


So, my hope is that artificial or expiring love won't take the place of true love this Valentine's Day.  Or ever.  True love is more than a Hallmark card, a box of chocolates, and a candle-lit dinner.  If that's all we're seeking, then we're certainly missing the forest for the trees.  Because true love doesn't expire, doesn't need a holiday, nor does it need to be advertised in a pop-up window.


May we all feel loved, truly loved, this Valentine's Day.  No purchase of Paris vacation needed.

Surviving Valentine's Day

It's February!  Good things that I suspect will happen this month:  every one of my students' parents will show up for parent/teacher conferences, I'll have a productive appointment with my internal medicine doctor to make me healthy again, and my anonymous snow-shoveling friends will keep up the good work.  Oh... and Valentine's Day is happening.


Not to talk myself up or anything, but I'm pretty much an expert at spending Valentine's Day alone.  Come to think of it... I don't know that there was ever a Valentine's Day where I had an official "valentine."  Not unless you count elementary school when everyone was required to bring valentines for the class.  Yep.  Take it from a girl who hasn't had any suitors since 2008-- you, too, can survive and thrive "alone" on Valentine's Day.  (No hoarding or unreasonable purchase of cats necessary.)  Here's what to do/remember:

• Watch this link.  It explains life:  All the good ones are taken.
• It's just one day.  One day out of 365.25 a year.  Love doesn't limit itself to just 24 hours or just one set of experiences.  Who's to say that March 14 or April 14 can't be just as special as February 14?  Every day has the potential to be a special day.
• Don't be bitter toward those who have a valentine with whom to spend the day.  Whether looking up or looking down on others to judge them-- both situations are wrong.  Don't criticize those who, in their loving relationships, make a big deal about Valentine's Day.  I hope that my friends and family have a blast sharing the day with their significant others.  When others are happily celebrating, it doesn't mean that my reservoir of happiness suddenly becomes depleted.  Joy isn't a competition-- be happy that someone else is happy.
• For the realists who can't stand the sappy sentiment:  Feel sorry for the high percentage of couples celebrating who will probably break up and/or divorce before the year is over.
• Depression is a sign of selfishness.  Stop being selfish.  I'm not talking clinical depression.  That's something else entirely (and not selfish at all).  However, becoming easily irritated, moody, and overly emotional because of a holiday-- that's selfish.  If you must, throw a tantrum, and then get over yourself.  Think of someone else.  Chances are, there are dozens of people you know who would appreciate a call or a visit on Valentine's Day.  Maybe there's your grandmother who's missing your deceased grandfather?  And what mother wouldn't like to receive a call from a child saying, "Happy Valentine's Day, Mom.  I love you."  I bet she'd like that better than whatever bouquet Dad is going to bring home.
• Take yourself to dinner and a movie.  Be your own valentine.  Why rely on outside sources to validate your importance?  Love yourself enough to celebrate-- not because it's a holiday, but because you genuinely believe that you are important.  You are important, so act like it.
• If dinner and a movie is a bit out of budget, make it a night in.  Treat yourself to a night of your favorite movies, TV shows, and/or videogames.  Since Valentine's Day is on a Friday this year, you won't even have to keep an eye on the clock.  The day will be over before you know it.  (I also recommend eating your own weight in Valentine's candy... assuming your body can take it.)
• Adopt a pet.  Ok, ok-- I know I mentioned above that no unnecessary purchase of pets was necessary.  If you're afraid of becoming the crazy-cat lady, then disregard this suggestion.  However, I've gotta admit that my pets have put into perspective what it means to truly care for someone else.  For some (**cough**hack**Mom**), pets = bacteria and carpet stains.  For me, pets = unconditional love.  What better way to express the love in your heart than to save a life?
• Put it in perspective.  Having someone to love, and someone to love you, is a powerful thing.  I don't imagine there are too many people who hope to be alone forever and ever.  We tend to put our relationships on a pedestal for a reason, after all.  (Wait one sec.  I've gotta get on my soap-box here.)  I don't think a loving God would plan for any of us to be eternally alone.  The unfortunate statistics are that, yes, some of us may have to spend our entire mortal lives without ever finding a special someone with whom to spend that life.  But, that's ok.  In comparison with eternity, a lifetime really isn't so long-- just a blip on infinity.  Call me crazy, but if love is what gives us great happiness in life, I doubt that Heavenly Father will suddenly choose to have us live without it.  He promises that every person who follows Him diligently will receive every deserved reward.  That reward includes love, a very special someone with whom to share eternity.  Whether in this life or the next, it's a promise.  So enjoy the phase of life which you're in, because all good things are promised to those who are obedient.