One of the most powerful and misused words in our language.
Love comes in all guises. It doesn’t have colour, gender, scent, attitude or motive, it just Is.
The love we have for our parents and theirs towards us varies between offspring and siblings. I was lucky insomuch as I never doubted my parents love for me, and accepted it was different to theirs for my sister and other members of the family.
It’s when it sneaks up on you that it can knock you for six.
For us cynics, anyone being nice always had an ulterior motive, but when you’re content in the company of someone without the need for rose-tinted glasses or thunderbolts attacking your breathing patterns, the emptiness when you’re apart speaks volumes as to your relationship. I’ve struck gold with Hubby, as I’ve got the whole nine yards.
Maggie is loved to bits by us both. We care, worry, fuss, become anxious, protective, just as we would a child. The unconditional love that is returned is immeasurable, and I get a warm fuzzy feeling watching her as she sleeps (photo Aug 3rd).
Sure, she can be a pain, attention seeking, demanding and annoying (just like a child!), but that goes with the territory of pet ownership.
I have no kids, but would like to think that if I did, I would love them as fiercely as any protective mother, yet not be stifling in expectations or their individuality.
We have our love of food, films, books, arts, and hobbies.
All different aspects of a common word that says a little but means such a lot.
My days are filled with love. Every one starts and finishes with ‘I love you’.