The little things that are forever

In our garage, somewhere at the bottom of a bin, there's a special book, its pages worn and creased.  It's titled, "Love you Forever," written by Robert Munsch.  

The book was a favorite in our home, and starred in countless appearances before naps and bedtime.  Even looking at its cover here brings back memories of all of the places we read it, and of the bookshelves and closets where we hunted for it at storytime.

This book follows a boy through his life - and his mother's love for him.  Whether he's flushing a watch down the toilet as a toddler or being a terrible teenager, the mother always shows him unconditional love.  Eventually, the boy expresses the same love for her, and holds her tenderly in her days as an old woman.

Yesterday was Valentine's Day.  A study that found that about 15% of women send flowers to themselves at work on that day.  No one should have to pretend that they are loved.  Everyone should know the love that Robert Munsch writes about. 

To me, love isn't delivered with roses or found in someone else's words pulled from a store shelf.   It's demonstrated in small and personal moments.  These moments are sometimes not fully appreciated until they've long passed.  Then we remember them in the sweetness of their context.  

I have had many.   Here are a few that come to mind:

-  a teenager, holding your hand in the car
-  a 12 year old that smiles as you joke with his friends at a birthday party
-  the car your parents help you buy when you're in high school
-  a present bought for you on your sister's birthday
It's the kind of love I've known - and what I think about on Valentine's Day.