The Language of Love

Through the years I have saved a few letters that are very special to me. One is the letter my dad wrote and gave to me the day I boarded an airplane to leave Chile and head for college in the United States. I unearth and read this letter at least once a year, and it still has the power to make me feel I am wrapped snugly in my daddy's arms of love and concern for his little girl.

Two other letters I've saved are from my grandmother, Margaret Christian. These are especially precious to me because they were written in the brief window of time between our departure for Chile and my grandfather's unexpected death just eleven months later. Grandpop Christian was the love of my pre-school life and I like to think I was his special girl, too. Grandmom's letters remind me that I was.

Words are my love language, but especially the written word. I realize now that I come by that honestly, because in my family it was always easier to show our love through gifts or acts of kindness, even to express it in written form rather than verbally. I was reminded of this again at the hospital just a few days ago. Sadly, my grandmother suffered a fall on Saturday night which resulted in a broken pelvis. My parents and I accompanied her to the hospital and sat with her through the many changes of nurses and doctors and trips for x-rays and a cat scan. We were there for Grandmom, but at a loss for words. Perhaps that is why I treasure these letters so much.

Thankfully, however, over the years I have learned to recognize and appreciate other "love languages" as well. When words fail, often other "languages" speak in abundance!

Grandmom now lives with my parents at their home in Delaware, and seeing "Meemie" again after nearly five years was another reason for much excitement when we arrived to the States last week. When Pedro hugged her and said it was good to see her, Grandmom replied, "I never thought I would still be around to see this!" She is 91 years old. Her mother-in-law apartment adjoins my parents' family room, and the kids love to wander in and sit on her carpet while she rests or watches television throughout the day. Despite failing eyesight and growing weakness, Grandmom welcomed us home with some of her special dishes: homemade vegetable soup one night, and delicious broccoli casserole another. She rarely cooks these days so we know this was an act of love just for us.

As a matter of fact, it is through her actions rather than words that Grandmom has primarily always shown her love. When she welcomed our family of five home on furlough the year I was ten years old, and squeezed us into her little home without complaint; when she took me shopping in the 4th grade to the "chubby kids" store in downtown Wilmington despite the extra expense (though at the time I wanted to die of embarrassment rather than recognize the affection behind it); and all through the college years when she opened her home to each of her grandkids and their friends, teaching us how to drive and manage money and deal with the separation from our parents who were still in faraway Chile.

It was an act of love when she bought me one of my first Precious Moments figurines, a little girl shedding a tear while on the telephone which was entitled "Tell It to Jesus." I knew then it was her way of saying she understood the sadness of being far away from my parents during college, while reminding me in her practical way that talking to God was much more affordable (and effective!) than the expensive international calls I longed to make each week.

Now years later, she awaited us with another act of love: her credit card, to purchase good-quality sleeping bags for each of our kids in preparation for furlough. She was concerned that her great-grandchildren be comfortable and snug during their many travels! We were touched and blessed by this gesture on their behalf.

I am so thankful for the love of family. My parents, too, have gone out of their way to express love to us in word and deed since our arrival. Mom-Mom had the Christmas decorations ready and waiting to shower her grandkids with gifts and celebrations. She had the turkey purchased and prepared to please her son-in-law. She even had catalogs and coupons clipped and ready for all our shopping needs! Pop-Pop has been our chauffeur to get driver's licenses renewed; purchase a vehicle; and drop off important paperwork to the country courthouse for the little boys' re-adoption. He has also been peppered with questions which he answers patiently and soundly. Certainly our boisterous tribe has interrupted an otherwise orderly and quiet existence, but we have felt nothing but love.

This morning I read through the book of 1 John in the Bible. I was struck by how many times the author reminds us to love one another, and thus to reflect the love of God Himself. I am humbled, and I am blessed ... because I am loved.

"Dear friends, since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another. No one has ever seen God; but if we love one another, God lives in us and his love is made complete in us."
-1 Jn 4:11-12