Things got real the other night during an outing with a few of my guy friends. It started off casually enough but before the evening was over we were sitting around a table sharing heartfelt stories and life-lessons. I’ll admit, it was probably my own estrogen level that tipped the scale. While most of the fellas there would chalk it up to cigar smoke and dusty vents, I’m sure I saw a few eyes glazed over as thoughts were shared. All kidding aside, I was recalling the memory of my father who passed away on September 1st of 2010. In all the years that I’d known him, he must have told me that he loved me thousands of times. That was comforting enough while he was still with me, but on this side of events, what I wouldn’t give to have heard him say at the end, “Son, I know you love me too…”
It wasn’t until after saying goodbye to him for the last time that saying, “I love you” wasn’t enough for me. I needed to know that he believed it! To be sure, I was absolutely obnoxious growing up. I’m quite positive that I gave my father every gray hair he ever had. I wasn’t prepared to think that somewhere along the way my affection might not have been clearly communicated. Being caught off-guard and a little surprised by this emotion, I now choose to make it a point to tell my children from time to time, “No matter what happens, always know that I know you love me.” I let them know how much it encourages me to know they care for me. They need to know their love for others is effectual and appreciated.
TL;DR – It strengthens others when they know their love is received.