As I sit here, I try to think of something that compares to the love I feel towards my mother. There really isn’t anything that comes close, and although I still try to come up with a similarity, I can not. Not even the affection I have towards chocolate comes close in any way. There just isn’t anything in my life that in any way resembles the same feelings of affection that I feel for her. Oh yes, the love that I feel towards my father is just as strong, but it is nowhere near the same. I guess it wouldn’t be correct to say that the love I have for my father is less than that towards my mom, but it plainly isn’t the same. They are two completely different entities, and each of them sits apart from the other on its own plane.
I guess there are different kinds of love finite, and these are without a doubt, two of the most prominent ones. I have written how strong and proud the love for my father is in me. I have written how as I grow older, that the love towards my father continues to instill itself deeper, and has become more a part of me than ever. I am the man I have become because of the love and all that goes along with it that has been handed down from him, along with the love I feel towards him.
The love I feel for my mother? Well, that’s a story, complete within itself. It is the beginning, and the ending of a soothing lullaby, the warm ending of a gripping, soul stirring novel, the catchy chorus of a classic top 40 love song, and the ending to a perfect summer’s day.
It is a complete feeling of love that I wish upon wishes that every creature on the face of this big blue marble has the incredible chance to feel and experience one day. It is a match made in heaven. Along glorious walk down an endless road, full of familiar curves and twisting family tales that only a mother could tell. It reminds us of all that is good, and explains the entire unknown to our frightened worried souls. The comfort and caress of a mother’s love remains the greatest remedy and the cures that it is responsible for will always continue to amaze the innocence of man.
The bond that exists between a mother and her child is the strongest bond in the universe. It is unmatched and unsurpassed by any other force. It is a union of souls, a merging affection that will always stand the test of time, and withstand the trauma associated with time’s relentless unforgiving elements. It is a force to reckon with, and its strength will live on through the millennia to come.
There is nothing like it, nothing to compare it to, and nothing that will ever sway it from its always present path of the simple fabric of family.
The love between child and father is strong, but it is made stronger with the gentle soothing caress of a mother’s love. These separate points of the triangle of family and of life feed off each other, and at the same time, they supply each other with the essence of the complete meaning. Remove one, and they will still exist, although a single line, incomplete as a whole.
As I have watched our own son grow into a man, I have been made aware of these facts, as I have witnessed the special bond between him and his mother. The union that exists between them is unlike the bond that he and I have. I love my son more than I love life itself, and I can see in his heart that the affection exists between us two.
I can also see though, the impenetrable bond that exists between his mother and him. It is cut from the same fabric that wrapped around my own mother and I, and it warms my soul to know that it has been handed down through the next generation, without any planning or manipulating or external sway. It is part of the union of the ages, and I smile deep inside when I think that something as simple and pure as this will continue to live on through the tomorrows of time.
Knowing that I have the love of my mother leaves me with a sense of purpose that only she could begin to explain. Maybe she can’t though. Maybe the gifts that she holds within her are all knowing and bare no explanation. Maybe they can never be explained, but must be lived and breathed to fully understand their importance. Maybe one day all of the definitions will come to fruition, and the circle will be complete. I truly believe that it is as completely perfect as anything can be. It is purity in its simplest form, unmarked through the ages, and unchallenged through all eternity. It is good and simple and pure and holds all the answers to all the questions. God’s perfect plan if you will.
We must never fear of the disappearance of such a wonderfully enlightening existence. We must always realize that whomever the mother and child are, and wherever their love is found, that this bond, this everlasting union will remain forever scripted.
I love you my dear mother. I thank God every day for your smiles, your praises, your gentle kisses, and the warmth of your endless hugs. You are the main ingredients that make up the recipe that is me. You are the foundation of who I have become. You and you alone hold the keys to the inner most chambers of my heart.
Although I go through some days without showing it, or saying it, I always feel it and believe it. The soft goodness of this world shows itself to me through your eyes. The gentle caress of the years gone by, glide down from the heavens and slowly swirl around my comforted soul.
Whenever you blew on a fresh cut of mine, and looked me in the eyes while you whispered to me, There, It’s all better now.” I knew that it would be ok. You instilled that in me. I picture your smiling face, and everything’s going to be ok. No matter what, no matter where, no matter how, I just know.
I love you Mom, and I thank you for forever giving me your love.