My parents brought back a book for Jenson from their travels to Canada earlier this year and I love it. Possibly more than Jenson does. It’s called the Alaska Lullaby and it’s a story of how much a parent loves their child. It sums up pretty much how much I love Jenson.
I love him in a heart bursting, tears streaming down my face, smile splitting way. With wonder as he gets steadier on his feet, amazement as I see his little personality shining through.
I love him with patience as he grumbles with teething pains, with back aches as I bend down so he can walk, with greater regard for his needs than my own as I spend my ‘blog time’ searching for a little shampoo bottle he’s absurdly attached to.
There’s one line in the song which I love in particular –
I love you in a million ways, I’ll love you for a million days
It pretty much sums up all that it is a mother’s love.
And although I don’t believe in the ‘God’ of any organised religion, there’s something about love which I can’t help but think has an enduring God-like power. Perhaps that’s what Christians mean when they say ‘God is love’ – they’ve attached a persona to him, but what if God is love? And when I say this, I don’t mean that it’s part of her/it/him, but that the presence of love is divine? And so when I’m able to tap into this all-consuming, unconditional love for Jenson, I’m able to feel the divinity that is love in its fiercest, truest form.
This love is something that I feel has the power to echo across the years, like the clanging of bells across the decades. Because, although I won’t be around for a million days (if I was, I’d be around for nearly 3000 years!), that’s how strong I feel this motherly love is.
It feels like an enduring love.
It’s a love so strong that it’s guiding my future and is driving me to find space in my current role (and potentially a different job in the future) to address some of the injustices that will impact him – our education system which privileges performance over passion, environmental policies which prioritise a quick buck over a sustainable world for our future children, a financial system which benefits the few despite needs of the many…I don’t know how this will manifest in my life, but I feel the urge to do something because this love isn’t passive. It’s active.
The beauty about this sort of love is that I can feel the love of others around me, enduring through the years. I know I’m enveloped in the love that my grandparents had for me despite them having passed away. The pride my grandad had for me and the comfort of my grandma’s love.
And I can feel the love that my parents have for me despite the hundreds of miles separating me from them.
This love is all there and I can’t help but feel it will be there for a million years, as will my love for my son.