The different ways of giving, and receiving the love, it’s all in the person’s differences of perceptions, translated…
My mother-in-law often complained on how her own sons didn’t love her enough. Unlike her daughters, before they were married off, they’d always, sat around her, smiled, and held conversations with her, and often taken her out to travel, and enjoy the dining experiences; after they were wed, they’d still phoned her once every week, called out to her, “mommy, mommy” sweetly. Comparing, her son was, less affectionate toward her, only used “mom”, instead of “mommy”, and always had that calmed look on his face, and, other than the needed words, he’d rarely, spoken any extra sentences to her, at most, he’d added, a few punchlines when it was fitting. The two of them almost never went out together, let alone, those mini-trips.
It seemed, that most sons are like that. For instance, although my friend’s son interacted with her often, but most of times, it was, only jokes. Like for today, he’d had stomach trouble, and claimed, that he’d only had his mother’s cooking for the day; as he’d, bombed on his exams, he’d, secondguessed that it may have been his genes; even as she’d gotten a positive diagnosis of cancer, he’d jokingly told her, that he thought he finally had the chance, to be his, true self. My friend complained, that she’d done his laundry, cooked his meals, and before the exams, she’d, prayed for him to feel at ease; and, as he’d entered into his first-choice of school, he’d, hung around his girlfriend all day, or gotten involved with various extracurricular activities, like mom wasn’t a part of his life anymore.
“My son doesn’t love me as much as my daughter does”, that was, the common conclusion of my mother-in-law and my friend.
And yet, as my friend went for her cancer scans again, and the treatments were, confirmed, her son, although he didn’t cry like hell, he’d stopped being missing-in-action, and started helping out around the house without being told.
After her first round of chemo, my friend started losing her hair, and, before her second treatment, she’d decided, to shave her head. And, that day, as she’d pushed the bedroom doors open, there was, this bald-as-a-cue-ball head, it wasn’t her who’d, gone bald first, but it was, her handsome son. Seeing how she was about to go to the salons to shave her head, he’d told her, “see, being bald isn’t that scary.”
In that precise moment, she’d felt the love that’s, so deep, that her son had for her.
I’d told my mother-in-law my friend’s story, and told her, that although my husband isn’t good with words, nor would he hold her hands, wrap his arms around her shoulders, but listening was his way, of showing love to her, and how he’d, brought some sweet treats for her after work too. Everybody has a different way of showing love, but the love is, one in the same. My mother-in-law nodded, smiled, and started eating up the sweetened tofu my husband brought home to her.
And so, this still just showed, how there are, NO right or wrong way we can show someone we love them, and just because you couldn’t feel the love from your young, that doesn’t mean, that they don’t love you, they may just be, showing it a way, that you weren’t, too receptive over, and all it takes, is a little more extra attention, to notice the loves that you’d not felt, from your loved ones.
Life, the Obstacle Course 