Harry Chapin

I hear people say all the time, “We didn’t really expect (insert child’s or children’s name[s]), but now I can’t imagine life without him/her/them.” I’ve said it myself, about all three of my beautiful children. But I’m lying when I say it and selling my imagination short. Of course I can imagine life without them, and in many ways what I see looks good. Looks easier. Looks less complicated. Looks better in some very tangible ways.

And this is how I know I really and actually love them. Even in the moments when I shouldn’t, when it would not be selfish not to, my love for them persists. In a sense, it really isn’t “my” love at all, I guess, but something greater that comes from outside of me and I am grateful for it; I am grateful for them and the ways I would not be me if I were “just” me.

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I think we almost always know when we are taking something for granted, despite our protests to the contrary. It’s actually thinking about what we’ve lost by doing so that sneaks up on us—the feeling of responsibility we allow busyness to push away until we can no longer ignore it. But I’m certain it’s better to feel that guilt and shame than it is to lose what it is we took for granted in the first place. Unfortunately, there have been too many times when I’ve hoped that my children will agree with me when they’re older. And my family members. And my wife.