I Love You

The phrase, "I love you" is said at least 20 times a day in my household.  On the weekend, you might hear it nearly twice that.  For a lot of people that is probably overkill (and annoying) but for my family, it means just as much as the first utterance in the morning as our closing words before sleep overcomes us.  

  Boyfriend says he grew up in a household where they didn't express their feelings often and while it is blatantly obvious to me when it comes to expressing difficult feelings, I'm quite surprised that he can so freely express his love for me and Baby.  From the first time he told me he loved me (drunkenly, two weeks after we started dating!) he has always made sure to tell me he loves me in the morning, at night and any time we part.    From middle school on, my father was very ill and for over 10 years I knew that he was going to pass away "anytime now".  Ten years knowing that a loved ones passing was sooner than later and that each time I parted ways with him could have been the last, well beyond other things that I pay my psychiatrist top dollar to help unwind, it has reinforced that I always want to communicate that I love my loved ones, and no matter what-those are the last words I say to them before we part-just in case.   Our, "I love you" habit has been passed onto Baby and for that, I am grateful.  She will be playing  alone in her playroom while I'm making dinner and come running just to tell me she loves me.  One day when Boyfriend took her to work, she yelled across the room, while playing on his phone, "Daddy, I love you!" completely unprompted, she just wanted to express her love.   I recognize that verbally expressing the words doesn't change how you feel, or how my family thinks I feel about them.  But it gives me great comfort that even though I can't pinpoint the last conversation I had with my father, there isn't one doubt in my mind that my last words were to him that I loved him and that he loved me too.