Unconditionally

The words "unconditional love" dislodged wonderful multiple memories from my brain. They fell into my heart like happy kids into an inviting pool. As each memory hit my heart's waterline, my breathing hitched and the tears came. I sobbed uncontrollably for a few minutes.

"Are you crying" my wife Amy asked.

I nodded and sobbed. She took my hand.

I didn't expect this reaction, sitting at a celebration of life for the father of one of my wife's good friends. Her friend was sharing some memories about her father and then she told us all that her dad loved her and her brother unconditionally. That he gave his love freely, kept communication open, and supported them through good times and bad. 

And that made me remember my father and his unconditional love for me and my sister. He passed away in 2012. 

I couldn't stop the tears; he gave his love freely, kept communication open, and supported us through good and bad times as well. It's not that our mom didn't do some of the same, but it was more complicated with her and us. She passed away four months after our dad, shortly after I took her home to Oregon.

I couldn't stop the tears. Amy squeezed my hand. I then thought about the day before when we were at another memorial for one of my dear friend's mother who had recently passed. She loved life and lived it to its fullest. She found and embraced as much joy as possible throughout her life and encouraged her family to do the same. 

And that's Amy to us, me and our children. I squeezed her hand.

Amy's friend finished her eulogy. My tears continued. I remember at the end of high school when I finally broke down and told my parents about my past, my current emotional state, and my crippling anxieties, anxieties that I was not equipped to talk about in any rational way prior to that moment. Prior to that moment I had become cynical about unconditional love, not believing there was such a thing. But in that moment, both parents held me and told me they loved me and that they'd help me figure it out. I'll never forget that. 

Our kids have had some of their own emotional struggles as teens, and we're grateful they've been able to share with us. Each time we listen and hold them and tell them we love them and we'll help them figure it out by empowering them to do so.

My tears kept coming as the celebration of life for Amy's dear friend's father continued. Those in attendance were given party hats because he wanted it to be a celebration. But losing someone dear brings sadness, and Amy's friend told us all, "The tears are worth it."

I wondered what my children would say about me someday after I was gone. I know that's morbid, but after reliving my own's father love as I sat there, I already knew the answer before I even asked myself the question: they would say he gave his love freely, kept communication open, and supported us through good times and bad.

Unconditionally.