A Day with the 'Rents

This weekend, my mom and dad came over to my house. The cool thing about my parents is, even though they're divorced, they're still friends with each other. The whole family still gets together often, and every time, Mom and Dad are perfectly respectful of each other and act as if they might even enjoy each other's company. While I'm sad that they are no longer married, I am so grateful that they have made the best of the situation. It would be easy for them to hold grudges, but instead they have practiced maturity and forgiveness. I really admire both of them for that.

On Saturday, Mom and Dad helped me put up all of my wall hangings. I recently moved to a new place and I hadn't yet decorated it, so on this day we practiced teamwork to get the place looking nice and cozy.

And the whole time, I felt guilty. I figured this activity could not possibly be enjoyable for them and surely they had better things to do. But here they were, helping me for the millionth time in my life. Why couldn't I just hang the stupid things myself? Why am I, in my late twenties, still eagerly accepting my parents' help?

But when it appeared our job was finished, and I told Mom that there was nothing else to hang, she said, "Darn! This is fun!" I laughed, first of all because my mother said the word "darn," and also because all that time I was feeling guilty, and they were actually having fun!

Later I was in my room and I heard my parents fussing with one of my windows, which was having difficulty closing. They were intent on fixing it, and they worked together—pushing and pulling on the window—to make it happen. 

And I started to cry.

Here were my divorced parents, putting aside their differences to help make my home as livable as it could be. They were doing physical labor, essentially, even after their original task was done, all to ensure that their little girl was safe and warm and happy. In my mind, they would be much better off doing anything else, but in their minds, hanging my pictures and fixing my windows was exactly what they wanted to do.

I couldn't imagine loving someone so much. It may sound like no big deal but in that moment it meant everything to me. On that day, like so many other days, my parents gave me a glimpse of what sacrificial love is supposed to look like. They put aside their own interests and time schedules, because to them, helping me was far more important than their own interests and time schedules. 

I don't think I've ever been that selfless. 

And it was then that I realized that this is love in its purest form... complete and utter selflessness. I also realized that this is what has been missing from almost every relationship I've ever been in. I've always been a receiver, and not enough of a giver. So that day, standing in my room, I made a silent promise to myself that I would strive to express sacrificial love, not only in my next romantic relationship, but also with my family and my friends and of course my darling little Julietta. And it is my hope that, like my parents, I will enjoy every minute of it.