Abiding Love

by Shea Bell
A demonstration of abiding love

How Do I Love Thee

“How do I love thee?  Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach when feeling out of sight
I love thee to the level of everyday’s
Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight.
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints, -I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life!-and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.”

Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1806-1861)

Today I write about abiding love – the love of a parent for their child, no matter the calamity, no matter their age – the love for a spouse that has gone cranky because of life’s challenges and is almost impossible to live with – the love that keeps the cookie jar full of homemade low sugar molasses and oatmeal cranberry cookies, and rubs cream on swollen testicles. Abiding love is the foundation of a meaningful life.  It can be relied on.
 
At my mother’s 70th birthday celebration, almost 20 years ago, my Dad appeared at the entry to the living room resting an old leather bound volume open on his left hand. The room was crowded with friends and loved ones who sat spellbound as he asked our permission to have the floor.

He cast his eyes first to his beloved then down to the page and began reading in a deep, husky voice, each word delivered with the gravity of a wedding vow. It was as if they were alone. 
 
Dad’s dedication was also demonstrated to his family as he mowed the lawn, seeded the garden, washed the windows, built a driftwood teeter totter,  or fixed the broken toilet.  He showed it as he stood with his toothy grin barbecuing salmon for the throngs that would gather, sometimes spontaneously, to enjoy the spirit of the family home.
 
Our Dad was a wholehearted guy in everything he undertook, and he was not an idle man. Besides being a dedicated to his family, he was also a keen writer, poet and philosopher, and his wife was his Queen. He knew how lucky he was she said yes those many years ago when he wooed her with poetry, roses, and those Paul Newman eyes of his.

This is the love that Creation intended. It gives life to life, and offers peace by asking nothing. It’s generous. Love shared and showered upon those we care for, provides the anchor for our dear ones to grow. In this space it’s possible to cast aside a frantic world where speed and perfectionism block true connection, and the romantic love of earlier years is emboldened, becoming deep affection.

 
It takes small but continuous effort to nourish the gift of a loving relationship, and it doesn’t have to be expensive or grandiose.  Carefully chosen words encourage, a smile sends light into darkness, and a small gesture of kindness provides much needed solace.

Freely given and received, love is the ultimate expression of grace, and abiding love is the glue that provides meaning and longevity. It`s perfectly imperfect.

About 10 years after this event I was inspired to write a poem for my Dad in recollection of that evening, as well as other times I witnessed his passion spontaneously ignite a room. An old boyfriend once told me he remembers an evening, while enjoying a meal together with the family, when Dad leapt out of his chair and burst out into verse. Yes, Dad’s passion made memories.
 
Although Dad and I are quite different people, we share a love of writing, especially poetry, and when “Passion” fell out onto the page it made me realize Dad and I were perhaps more alike than I thought. What I am sure of is our family understands what it means to live with abiding love.

Passion

Tonight he quoted
Shakespeare on the
phone with me
during an everyday
conversation,
just thrown in
as if normal
that an 80 year old
would remember
wise words
relevant 400 years
later.
 
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
read aloud at
the celebration of his
beloved’s birthday.
In awe and breathless
at this public declaration
of pure love
we weep openly
and strengthen silently
 
I am renewed and
grateful for the depth
of love that birthed me
supports me
encourages me
and steadfastly stands
behind me.
It is all about love
truly,
at the bottom. 



Be well, friends. I hope abiding love is somewhere in your lives, with your partner, a parent or sibling, or a dear friend.

Please scroll to the bottom if you would like to comment.

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10 comments

Jennifer May 27, 2019 - 10:04 am

Perfect❤️

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admin May 27, 2019 - 5:19 pm

Glad you enjoyed it Jenn.

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justimaginefunDonna May 27, 2019 - 10:18 am

He had no need for fanfare. He slid in his loving messages without warning. He showed his love in his everyday actions, building a home and a garden full of nurturing food. It likely saved his bacon, god bless him. Thanks for sharing deep memories of Dad’s love.
.

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admin May 27, 2019 - 5:18 pm

Yah, remarkable parents. We are so lucky.

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Sheila Nevison May 27, 2019 - 4:39 pm

Wiping tears away…what a beautiful tribute…?…and wonderful memories.

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admin May 27, 2019 - 5:18 pm

Thanks Sheila…most of my friends remember the deck, the nook, the front hall closet and the bathtub! See you soon.

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Darlene May 28, 2019 - 1:53 pm

This is so perfect! I can say that I experienced abiding love with my parents as well for us as well as for each other. We are very lucky in that. I have always loved the last line of the EBB poem. Your poem is equally as special. A lovely post.

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admin May 28, 2019 - 2:46 pm

We do have lots in common Darlene. My parents have farming heritage, so that is likely why. Thanks for your comment and kind words as well. I am so enjoying this experience of sharing my life with others.

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Brian Bell May 28, 2019 - 3:59 pm

Powerful, endearing memories of our complex – but deeply spiritual and ethical – father. Thanks for stirring them up!

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admin May 28, 2019 - 5:36 pm

Yes, what an amazing man he was. We had remarkable teachers.

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