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.
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