Capacity to love

Parents connect with us in a way that goes beyond a mere relationship. They’re part of our identity and help shape us through our formative years and beyond.

Parents often say that until they had children of their own they didn’t know the depths of love and hadn’t experienced their true capacity to love. I believe it, because I’ve seen family and friends who transformed when they welcomed daughters and sons into the world. Sleeplessness and worries couldn’t shroud their love.

Plus, as our parents’ children, we sense that love first hand. We see love in their eyes and actions. We hear it in their words. We feel it in their embraces. We rely on that love. We believe in that love.

This past week, it was heart-wrenching to witness friends grieving the loss of a beloved parent. One friend’s elderly mother died last week after suffering from chronic illness. A second friend, whose dad died of a sudden heart attack when she was young, struggled with the anniversary of his death. At the time, my heart simply went out to them, yet I didn’t feel equipped to help either of my friends with their bereavement.

Each of us will lose our parents at some point, but no matter how “prepared” we are for that loss it will be intense. Parents welcome us into this world and they see us through various stages in the rollercoaster ride we call life.

Whether that shared ride lasts a decade, half a century or longer, the end feels too abrupt. Even though no one can extend that ride, it is possible to cherish the memories of the journey’s ups and downs.

I'm not saying we should't mourn. That's required and natural. I just trust and hope that my friends can get past the death and loss of a parent to celebrate the mutual laughs, moments, teachings and love.

After thinking about them a lot this week, what kept coming to mind was that I’m convinced a parent’s love can guide, even after death. You may think that since my parents and parents-in-law are alive and well, I cannot counsel anyone on this subject, but I can draw on what I learned from the deaths of my maternal grandparents (Mom-Mom and Dad).

Mom-mom and Dad were involved in raising me, so I always thought of our relationship as slightly more parental than grandparent-like. I counted on each of them for laughs, stories, love and advice right up until they died. And I’m sure that if they were still alive today, Mom-Mom and Dad would follow my blog and jump in with their two cents or more.  

Their deaths coincided with separate Christmas seasons, but their love and loss taught me not to dwell on sorrow at this time of year. Sure, I’ve shed tears and I do wish I could pop by to chat with them or stop in for a rowdy Lampman party, but at Christmas I rejoice that I shared such a special ride with them.

I celebrate that they influenced my capacity to love and that they are among the people to whom I opened my heart. Given more time, I could certainly have learned A LOT more from them, but it’s pointless to focus on the what-ifs and the missed moments. Instead, I count my blessings for the time we did share and for the love they showed me by example. I do my best to do them proud by sharing that love with others.

So treasure recent and distant memories for that capacity to love not only heals, it also feels

      AWESOME!

I won’t see my parents, parents-in-law or grandparents this holiday season, but I’m aware of their love all the same and I plan to honour that love. My wish for each of you this Christmas is that you may feel the power of love from near and far.