My kids are at the age where telling them, “I love you,” is often received with a blank stare, sometimes a short smile, and seldomly an “I love you, too.”
As a mom, this is a hard pill to swallow. Maybe I took the return “I love you” with whim when they were little. The response was so instant and returned with joy that I believed it’d last forever. My kids were going to be different from all the other kids; I had built something different than all the other mothers. And when my kids became teenagers, we were still going to hold hands, hug often and say “I love you.”
Sometimes I miss their small hands around my face. Or their slobbery kisses on my cheek. I know our relationship is still the same on the inside, but outwardly, it continues to vary based on what they are comfortable with at any given stage. Right now, I have one who will hug me when her friends aren’t around, a sometimes-cuddler and a very bouncy boy who will hold my hand after his sisters are out of the car.
This morning, I dropped the girls off at school, and my buddy climbed into the front seat just as he does everyday. I grabbed his little face underneath the chin that I gave him and said, “I love you.” He said, “Mom! I know. You tell me everyday.”
I told him, “I will continue to tell you everyday for the rest of your life. Even when you have a wife and children and a job, even if you don’t have a telephone, I will tell you everyday. There are some people in this world who never hear I love you. I’m sure they are loved, but no one tells them. If I didn’t tell you that I love you, who would?”
He shrugged his shoulders.
“Yep. I’m the only one who will tell you. Many love you. Others show you. But just so you don’t forget, and so that you always know, I will tell you everyday. That way, you will always know those words,” I continued.
He darted out of the car as we pulled up to his school, and I told him to have a good day followed by, “I love you.” He reminded me that I had already said that. And I said it’s okay to hear it more than once.
I doubt that he’s tired of hearing those words. I know he knows that I love him. But something inside me just wants to make it known in big and small ways all the time. I want my love for them to seep into every fiber of their bodies so that one day, when they are doubting themselves or questioning their place, they will remember that no matter what that day holds, I still love them.
My children are just like the rest of the children in this world. They are walking into a new life; one they haven’t known before, where they have more freedom and independence, and they are trying to figure out how they fit in.
And for whatever reason, there is something inside of us that wants to turn that constant display of affirmation or affection off. I’d like to say it’s just a phase that my kids are going through. That they will grow out of it. And maybe they will. But the truth is we live in a society where we all crave those words, but we constantly put up walls to them in all sorts of different ways.
They will begin to question whether they can say those words to me and their father. They will wonder if it’s the right time to say them to someone they genuinely care about. And they will build boxes around what it means to love or how to show love.
We all do. So. It’s important for me to continue to voice my love for them, even when they don’t know how to receive it. Because this is where understanding begins for children. The foundation I choose to build for them today will help shape their actions in the future. And I pray that something I’ve done along the way will help them understand something very important: the consistency of love.
