The other day, in the kitchen, I hugged Mr. Gadget. He probably helped clean up, which isn’t the norm, although he would contest that. It was a nice moment, but the very best part was stepping away from him and seeing my little boy smiling up at us, radiating the most beautiful pure love from every ounce of his giant little being. It was an impression I’d like to etch in my memory forever. It represents love at its finest. Unconditional. Untainted. Unjaded. Unscarred. He’s so young and innocent, and it filled him with joy to see his mommy and daddy embrace in a loving moment.
I need to remember this. To try to see love through the eyes of a child, rather than through the hardened skin of a weary and worn adult. Because, it’s true, I can be critical. I have great expectations that I impose upon myself, and by association, I impose them upon my man. Because we’re a unit; we’re a reflection of each other, in some ways, and I do believe there are some fundamental things that we should agree on. Like-mindedness. How I yearn for that. It sometimes seems that there is very little that we agree on, other than that we love each other and that we love our child with a great big gigantic love. Expression of expectations is not always conducive to a harmonious environment. I need to remember that he’s not me, and I need to embrace that and rejoice in the diversity he brings to our union. I need to appreciate him, simply for being him. And, perhaps, he just might do the same for me. Then, there will be more loving embraces, and there will be more shining happy faces smiling up at me.
It’s so worth it.
