Choosing to Love

Last night Chase and I were watching Liliana playing on the floor and were discussing how strange it is that we have no recollections of being that age. Each day Lily learns new things. It's so fun to watch as she begins to understand that when she touches something, she is touching it. She's realizing a little more each day that her actions cause reactions in the things around her, her toys, the dogs, the mirror, her parents.

I can almost see the the synapses and neurons connecting in her brain, the various parts developing with ever-more maturity. It's crazy how she remembers things from day to day and constantly builds on what she learned yesterday. She obviously has memory, but not the kind of memory that allows things to stand out in a memorable way in the span of time she's lived thus far. That kind of memory will come later - sometime between the ages of 3 and 5.

One thing that has been strange to me as a first-time parent is the insane and inexplicable depth of love I feel for my little girl. It's unquanitfiable. Similar, though in a different way, to the love I feel for my husband. But the biggest difference between the love I feel for my husband and the love I feel for my daughter is that the love I feel for my husband is reciprocated, voluntarily.

Chase chooses, daily, to love me back. A major part of the joy is in the shared love. But Lily doesn't love me back - at least not cognizantly. Sure, she may prefer my smell, my voice, my arms, my milk to any other, but she doesn't yet know what love is. It's my job to teach her love.

Just as she has no framework for memory yet - that comes with time as her brain develops and makes memories, then things will stand out and she'll have memories - so also she has no framework for love. It is Chase and my (and all of our friends and family) choosing to love her that will teach her what love is and will teach her how to love in return.

One day Lily will look into my eyes and say, "Mommy, I love you." And initially she'll say it because she's been taught to say it. But one very special day, she'll look into my eyes and say, "Mommy, I love you." And she'll mean it. She'll choose to say it. And she'll choose to say it because she has learned what love really is and because she is voluntarily giving it back. That will be a glorious day. But until then, I'll enjoy that she can bask in my love as I can bask in my Father's love. What a gift: to choose to love.