Endless love

This month we celebrate Valentine’s Day, a day dedicated to love. Although, traditionally, romanticism has been largely celebrated, it is a good time to talk about love, also to reflect upon our relationship with others and with ourselves. There are authors who claim that in order to love, you must first love yourself.  I agree with them.

Robert Indiana sculpture in Philadelphia

In essence, I am a very romantic woman (although I never envision doing a half-lit dinner, with beautiful chandeliers, soft music, wearing a lace dress and allowing a gentleman to open the door or pull out the chair for me). Like others, I like the drama of unrequited love, but when analyzing love, I cannot forget the writings of my paternal grandmother, María, on the different types of love, extraordinary narrative essays in figurative language. I cannot let the month of February slip by without speaking a bit about her who lived three stories of love: her love for my grandfather, Alejandro; her love for Don Ramon Nunez; and her love for my father, Virgilio, her only son.

I will only outline her motherly love, it is the strongest of feelings, the concepts of mercy and courage are inherent to it. Although my grandmother did not have to make physical efforts to support my father, as the pictures below show, she nevertheless suffered, believed, hoped and endured all kinds of tests in order to love him unconditionally.

La Pietà, by Michelangelo

A mother in Africa

The sacrifices a mother makes for her children surpasses any understanding as we can see every day by looking around us. If I could ever use the words of Mother Teresa of Calcutta, “to give until it hurts”, this is the most appropriate time.