I See Their Love More Clearly Now

Dear Delyara, My parents did not love me perfectly. That sentence used to break my heart. Now it helps me tell the truth. They loved me in the language they had. My father loved us through work, repair, routine, responsibility. My mother loved us through worry, food, vigilance, memory. Neither of them always knew how to be soft. Neither of them always knew how to listen without correcting. But the love was there, even when its shape was difficult. I used to only see what was missing. Now I also see what was offered. This does not erase pain. It just widens the picture. And I think gratitude, at its best, is wide enough to hold both.