Saying "I love you"

A friend wrote a blog post in which he posed 12 questions about the important things in life. All were seemingly simple tasks to fulfill, none cost anything, and all were readily at hand. One of the 12 was "Have you told your children every day how important they are and how much you love them?"

I am happy I can answer "yes!" to that. I don't talk to my children every day anymore because they are all grown and live on their own, but every time I do, whether on the phone or in person, I tell them how much I love them and how important they are to me.

To me it is supremely important to tell your children how much you love them. I never heard those words from my own parents, although they showed their love in so many different ways. Even today, my mother never tells me she loves me outright, although her handwritten messages on cards are full of love. My parents are from a generation when a simple "I love you" was so hard to say. They thought they didn't need to say it.

My parents devoted their lives to me and my brother. Still, the lack of a verbal or written "I love you" hurts, even at my age. It has also resulted in my not being able to say it to them! My dad died 19 years ago. His death destroyed me for some time afterward. I was an emotional mess. Even now I long for his presence. He was a wonderful man, loved by his friends and siblings, wife and children. I remember a conversation I had with him once. I asked whether he tells my mother he loves her. He replied that he didn't, that he didn't have to. Years later, I asked him whether he loved me. We were arguing and I begged him to say the words, to tell me he loved me. He didn't do it -- I guess he just couldn't.

Growing up, my father drove me to piano and ballet lessons after a long day of work and sat in the car reading the paper while I had my lesson. This dutiful action was something a parent did, something I have done with all six of my children. My mother stayed up until 3 AM many a day making me a costume or a dress for a school event. She made me many dresses, even my wedding gown. Those are actions of a loving parent. She no doubt thinks the silent "I love you" these actions speak is enough. Perhaps it should be. But why, then, do I feel that there's something wrong with me that my parents could never say "I love you" to my face?

We were not particularly touchy-feely either, in our family. The perfunctory hug at the door as I arrived and left on big trips or during visits after marriage was warm and physical, but otherwise touching each other was not done. Some people are constantly touching their family members during ordinary conversational banter, warm fuzzy feelings, saying goodnight even.

I was very physical with my children, but today only a couple of them are as huggy as I am. The others just tolerate the arrival and leaving hugs, returning them obligingly. Maybe it's a family gene?

I never end a phone conversation with any of my children without telling them I love them, and with a few of my kids, blowing kisses over the phone. The kisses may be over the top, but it's a "mamma tradition" from when they were little. One thing I won't ever have to regret is that I didn't tell my children I loved them. I tell them every chance I get!