Unconditional love. That’s a phrase we hear a lot, but have you ever thought about what it really means?
I heard it in a song on the radio the other day. “My love is unconditional.” Unless that song was specifically speaking from the point of view of a parent talking to a child, that’s a lie. It may warm the heart of the person hearing it, and the person saying it is probably sincere, but it’s just not true.
Yes, there it is … I’m coming right out and saying it … the ONLY truly unconditional love that exists on this planet is the love of a parent for a child.
And it’s not a two-way street, either. We love our parents, but it’s not an unconditional love. Although we don’t like to think about – much less talk about – these kinds of feelings, there are things a parent can do that will destroy the love of a child.
And if you think you love your mate or spouse unconditionally, I suggest that you are deluding yourself. Unconditionally means no matter what this person says or does. So let’s rethink this one for a minute … there is absolutely nothing your mate or spouse could say or do that would cause you to stop loving him or her? Really? Thought so!
Yep, I’ll say it again … the only truly unconditional love that exists is that of a parent for a child. After my son became a parent himself, he told me one day he finally “got” it, that he now understood what I meant when I told him all his life that I would love him no matter what. He said, “You really meant that, every time, didn’t you?!” I told him I absolutely did.
A few years earlier, when he was going through the rough teenage years during which time he seemed determined to test the theory that stress can actually kill, he had asked me, after one particularly grueling period in our relationship, if I still loved him. I told him I loved him before he was conceived and I would go on loving him well beyond the transitioning of my corporeal self, and on throughout eternity, and that there was nothing he could ever do that would change that. As an illustration, I told him that if I were sitting on the couch one day and he walked through the front door with a gun in his hand and walked up to me and screamed, “I hate you and you’re going to die,” and shot me, that with my dying breath I would say to him, “I love you, son. I forgive you. Forgive yourself.”
I meant that then. I mean it now. I will mean it throughout the aforementioned eternity.
I have, however, had trouble grasping the fine distinction between loving someone and rushing in to attempt to save him from himself. I have always wanted, as I think most parents do, to make my son’s life as easy and rich and wondrous as possible. I have flinched each time something grazed his spirit, I have cried many bitter tears over the wounding of his heart, and I have tried to be there for him in meaningful and effective ways. I have never been a perfect mother, because I have never been a perfect person, but my love for him has always been pure and strong and perfect. There is no fault to be found in this mother’s heart.
Unfortunately, the same cannot be said of this mother’s actions. In my desire to shield my beloved son from unnecessary pain, I have too often shielded him from NECESSARY pain; the kind of pain we must each go through in order to learn something about ourselves and life and thereby become self-reliant adults. With nary but the highest intentions, I have stepped in and blocked some of the blows that were headed his way, even the ones he brought on himself, the ones he deserved, the ones that might have made him stronger.
For this, I deeply and heartily apologize. It breaks my heart to think that my desire to KEEP him from being hurt has caused him to BE hurt, but that is what happens when we do too much for those we love and they never learn to do for themselves.
You see, the message I hoped to send to my son was “I LOVE YOU AND I’M IN YOUR CORNER, ON YOUR SIDE, NO MATTER WHAT.” However, the message that was received by him was probably more like, “THE ONE PERSON ON EARTH WHO KNOWS YOU BETTER THAN ANYONE ELSE THINKS YOU CAN’T HANDLE YOUR OWN LIFE AND PROBLEMS, SO SHE HAS TO STEP IN AND DO IT FOR YOU.”
In an effort to help him fly, I essentially crippled him. Just like when a baby is learning to walk, if you rush in and save him every time he’s about to fall, he will never learn to stand up on his own two feet.
I started learning that lesson when my son was 17. Now, some 9 years later, it is a lesson I understand and fully grasp, but am still struggling to implement. Old habits die very hard. I suppose as a mom, it will always be my knee-jerk reaction to rush to pick him up when he falls. But these days I have learned to stand still and breathe until the knee stops jerking and the brain kicks in. No matter how big a pickle he gets himself into, if having his mom bail him out of it will ultimately weaken him as a man, then Mom has to take a step back and let her son take a spill or two. Sometimes falling is the only way to find out you’re strong enough to get back up on your own.
So while my LOVE for my son will always be unconditional, my intervention in his life will not. Of course, I will come through in a crisis … for example, if his home were swept away in a flood, he and his family could bunk with me. But barring an act of God, he’s just gonna have to muddle through on his own. I love him enough to let him try and fail and learn and grow stronger. I love him enough to let him be angry with me for not helping if that’s what it takes. I love him enough to endure my own pain as I watch him hurting. I love him and believe in him enough to let him go.
