One of the major reasons I keep a blog is because I want my girls... and okay, I'll admit it, maybe myself, to know me-- the real me, the ever-changing, hypocritical, amazing, energetic, lazy, me that clings to the known yet ever craves the new and the changed.
I want the girls to know that there are many definitions of love in the world. Many we can put into words and others simply envelope us, threaten to burst our hearts, make our chests hurt with the hugeness of it all. I want the girls to know that last night I woke at two am and Dean was lying in bed next to me where we had fallen asleep with the light on watching a movie and I looked at him sleeping. I saw that the past sixteen years have put a few lines at the corner of his eyes and his hair is a little thinner than it used to be, his body has changed. But I looked at him and something welled up in me that made me want to wake him and shake him and tell him so that he would know. But I didn't and the moment passed and I walked out to the kitchen to get a drink and picked up his socks where he had left them under one of the kitchen barstools where he was working at his computer earlier.
I remember when Dean's dad had his accident and it was very touch and go. I think he had like 6 different spinal fractures and was having issues keeping his blood pressure stabilized even with all the drugs they use in the trauma ICU. Dean's mom was talking to Dean's brother on the phone about whether he should come up or not. I took the phone from her and said what the doctors had told us- 50-50 over the next 48 hours or so, the odds maybe weren't so good if they ended up having to take him into surgery. I told Mark that I would want to be there, worst case to say my goodbyes, best case to lend my support.
And I remember, etched in my brain like those few moments in life that truly write on our souls are, Dean's mother holding Dean's sister and crying and saying again and again, "I'm not ready. I'm not ready for it to be over." That's love. That's real love when even after so many years together, raising three kids, thousands upon thousands of meals and cups of coffee and trips aroundd the world, you can still say "Please, just a little longer, I want more."
I hope my girls know love like that. I think I have known love like that, even if it has come in fits and spurts, glimpses, moments... it is a rare thing, I think. Or maybe we only realize it in those moments when it might be taken from us, truly. I don't know but I want to know.