When I First Understood the Meaning of Love: A Lesson I Learned From my Mother

My mother turned 91 not too long ago and she has lived an amazing, interesting and unique life.  She now lives the simple life of a woman suffering from dementia surrounded by the love and in the care of my oldest sister.

The terms of my mother’s illness have made me stop and reflect on our relationship and what I have learned from her and her life.  I keep coming back to one thing – my mom taught me the meaning of love.

I can almost pinpoint it to an exact moment in time.  It was 1977.  My mom and I were riding the Metrobus from Georgetown to our home near the Washington National Cathedral.  I was 14 years old.  At the time my mother and I were not close. We were never on the same page, literally did not speak the same language and were more than generations apart. But there we were sitting next to each other, in stone silence, on the bus.

At one of the stops three teenagers got on the bus.  They were Punk Rockers with purple hair mohawks, spiked dog collars, torn tights and clothes, straight from Commander Salamander. After they walked past I turned to my mother and stated, “Aren’t you glad I don’t dress like them?” Her response was quick. “So what if you did? Do you think I would love you any less?” I was stunned.

I was thinking she would say that she was relieved and happy I was normal. At that time in my life I was trying so hard to get her to love me by trying to be good, by conforming, by being normal. What I did not know at the time was she did love me deeply and she always would. Her response taught me to be less judgmental of others and to believe in myself because she believed in me and always would no matter how I looked or what I did.

What I also learned at that moment was how my mother loved me. Her love was beautiful, supportive and consistent. Most of all it was unconditional.

I wish I could say we stopped disagreeing and became closer after that bus ride but this is real life and I was still a teenager.  I can say that my mother never wavered from her course in the love she showed me. Once I grew up enough to understand the lesson of that moment I knew I had experienced the true meaning of love and that the gift of unconditional love was one the greatest things my mother ever gave to me.

So now I try to give the gift back to her. She doesn’t always remember who I am and I don’t spend as much time with her as I wish I could but when we are together I try to repay the love she showed me all my life by helping her through simple daily tasks unconditionally and with pleasure. In true form my mother thanks me for it all, another gift:  An unconditional thank you for an unconditional gesture of gratitude.


Thanks Mom!
Magda