Love lingers.

Love is a strange thing. Hard to quantify or measure, reduced to chemical impulses by some, it certainly exists. I know because I love, in one way or another, different people. I would be less of a person without them. Love though, is a self centred emotion. We can only feel it as it relates to us, not others. It’s an emotional contract between humans that says: I will give (emotion, time, material goods, protection etc) and in return, I require nothing. Love is, in many ways, contrary to human nature, but it is the emotion that allows space for family life, lasting partnerships and friendship.

From behind my own unique pair of eyes, I watch and react to the world around me. I respond in my own unique way. Yet behind those eyes there’s the influence of another who taught me to respect and love everyone. Although framed within a religion I have now left behind, the Christian doctrine, ‘love your neighbour,’ has served me well, and it’s one I’m grateful for having instilled in me. I wouldn’t say I’m a perfect example of the Good Samaritan, but I sometimes try. I often think it’s that that makes me the sensitive soul I more than occasionally am. I don’t think for a moment that I’m the only who cried when they saw pictures coming out of Africa accompanied by music from The Cars. But I can also cry at books, films, sporting success or failure, beauty; you name it, I can cry at it. What I do wonder sometimes, is where those tears come from. Behind my eyes is the strong influence of another who lives on in the way I perceive the world.

In the ten years since my mum died, sudden tears, as if from nowhere, have coincided with important events: the birth of my youngest, moving to a new house, getting a good job. All, when analysed, a feeling of loss because I wanted to share those moments with mum as well as with the people who now make up my family. The first time it happened and I’d had chance to think, I was surprised to discover that although gone, I still loved mum very much.

One day, when it’s all over for me too, I hope I still have some influence from behind the unique eyes of my children. Not as a result of my love for them, but for their lingering love of me.

For love does exist, and it lingers when all else is gone.