Friday, February 6, 2009

Love Defined

There are hugs and kisses, smiles and presents.  Meals cooked and beds made.  It's easy to squeeze a hand and whisper I Love You.  I need and appreciate all those things, but they are not the real proof of love in this house.  The real proof is my husband.

If I once wondered what love looks like, I don't anymore.  Love looks like a man walking out the door everyday to go do a job he not only dislikes, but actually puts him in real danger. Everyday.

I try my best to do my part, to make an equal sacrifice. I cannot. I am simply not as strong or as selfless as my husband is.  He encourages me to write, to take pictures, to make things and then he goes to work.  Sometimes I feel more guilty than I can express. I try not to think about it because cheering me up would just be one more thing that my overworked husband has to do during his day.

I never imagined myself turning into this traditional wife and mother person. In some ways I am still that radical, young feminist, but then I start baking bread and folding clothes and my edge gets blurry.  I'm just so grateful to have this brave, amazing, hardworking man taking care of me and my daughter, that I no longer care if people think of me as anti-feminist. I am me. I am lucky. I am so loved.


How does your family show their love?  Write about it and you could win a gorgeous Paloma Picasso Loving Heart Pendant from the Parent Bloggers Network and Insure Your Love.

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