all the small things

i'll be the first to admit that i am not the best at loving people. i try to be good, but love is hard work. especially, i would imagine, being in love and sharing your life with someone day in and day out. so in hopes of figuring a little bit out i watch my parents. and i think i've figured out what love is. love is, after taking care of someone for 15 years, continuing to take care of them like it is the first day all over again, with enough patience and grace that they know it will never run out. this was especially illustrated to me the other day. i take care of dad all day long. i am rarely sweet about it. when he wakes me up at night and needs water, i go into the sink in his room and get it from the faucet. when he needs his blankets pulled up, i give him the evil eye and tell him he can do it himself. when he wants the phone during the day, i audibly sigh, grab the phone, and throw it onto his bed. i am zero great. my mom is another story. she wakes up after a few hours of sleep, makes dad breakfast and gets him into the shower and dressed. she goes to work all day. she comes home and takes over while i go out. once he goes to bed she tries to catch up on cleaning the house and work. then she sleeps a few hours and it starts again. but when my dad asks for water, she puts ice cubes in it every time. and to me, that's love. amen.