Over the past few weeks, Atlas has turned a new leaf in his personality, intellect and autonomy. Not a day goes by where he doesn’t blurt out some new one-liner that has me laughging until I can’t. In similar fashion, not a day goes by where he doesn’t try to test the limits of doing/not doing the things he’s supposed to – from eating dinner to putting his toys away.
At this point in his life, there isn’t anything Atlas can do that will make me love him less. For example, when he doesn’t do as he’s asked, he doesn’t lose ‘2 love points’ because did one thing rather than another. The love I have for him is unconditional, and I recognize that one important thing is intact; he’s trying his best.
All of us were once Atlas’ age and [hopefully] loved unconditionally by our parents and family. However, as life goes on, the love people extend to their little ones (and their family) begins to grow conditions and the element of ‘love point deduction’ comes into play much more than many will admit.
It would be absurd for me to love Atlas less if he chose to wear one shirt over another on any given day. Yet, love is often withheld (or taken away) from adults when they decide to put on their not-so-proverbial shirt when they wake up.
Take sports (please) for example, I went to Ohio State University and if you dared to wear a blue/yellow shirt during football season, you’d be subject to jeers, profanity or even projectiles hurled at you on the streets.
How would you feel if you were walking down the street and a random stranger rolled down their window to scream:
“FUCK WHAT’S IMPORTANT TO YOU!”
It sounds absurd, but I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve heard “FUCK MICHIGAN” screamed by college students and grown adults alike during football season in Ohio.
The irony of this bro-behavior is that Michigan has a much better school, academically, than Ohio State. Who’s the dumb one? The person screaming profanity, if you look at statistics.
It’s really easy to look at the divide between OSU/Michigan and see the absurdity behind it – especially if you didn’t go to either school. However, it’s a lot more difficult to look at the division that exists within our culture because many of these issues have a basis of being ‘morally right’, ‘spiritually correct’, or simply ‘humanitarian’ in their nature.
Going back to Atlas, I hope that he’s always met with the same unconditional love that I have for him, and that my love for him continues to grow more every day. I can’t expect others in the world to love him that way that his Dad or Mom do, but I do pray that he’s met with kindness, patience, respect and safety in every turn he takes in life.
Someday, Atlas may make a decision that I disagree with, such as buying a Honda Civic, joining the military or joining a cult. While that may put distance between the things we have in common – it will never put any distance between my love for him.
Why?
Because I love Atlas.
I don’t love Atlas because he will vote one way or another.
I love Atlas because he’s my Son.
I love Atlas because he is himself.
I love Atlas because…he’s Atlas.
Don’t you wish that somebody loved you because you’re you – not because of what you do, believe or think?
I do.
Love isn’t some sort of points-based accural system. Rather, it’s a well that continues to get wider, deeper and stronger as time goes by. When we start filling in this ‘well’ with fill-dirt because somebody does something we don’t like, we shortchange ourselves of reaching deeper waters that are more abundant than the surface level creeks we started with. Read that again.
This past week, I went to a hobby store with Atlas. One there, my arms filled up with small boxes of plastic models we planned to build together. That’s what “Let’s go to the store to get caps for your guns” turns into… My arms were full of the boxes, and I grabbed as many bags of caps that I could fit in my hand.
As we were picking out the caps, Atlas started looking at the row of cap guns. “Dad, I want this one!” he excitedly blurted.
“Atlas, you have one just like that home!” I responded.
“Can I please get this one? Look, it has a belt!” he countered.
“No, Atlas. We don’t always get what we want. You have a lot of cap guns at home. Let’s check out and play with them. See all the cool models we got?”
It didn’t matter to Atlas. However, he walked to the checkout counter with me. That’s when I remembered what it was like to be a little boy. I looked at his eyes and saw they carried a hint of disappointment. It didn’t matter that we were spending nearly a hundred bucks on models and caps…he was sad because he didn’t have the toy gun he wanted.
“Atlas, let’s go get that gun.”
He lit up like a Christmas tree. We walked back to the aisle and picked out the ‘best’ gun we could find, as I grabbed another handful of caps.
Did it make sense to buy him another cap gun? Absolutely not – if you’re being practical. Love isn’t practical, however. In many cases, love makes you do something that your brain screams at you not to do – and you’re better off because of it. We didn’t make it out of the parking lot before he strapped the holster to his belt and proudly tucked in his new cap gun, neatly tucking his shirt over it to hide his gun ‘like Dad do’.
I am so grateful for the moments where I catch myself and remember what it’s like to be a little boy, because they help me love, parent and play with Atlas – and give him what he needs most – unconditional love.
There was a big lesson for me in the ‘Hobby Store Episode’ of my life; one that extended beyond my love for Atlas, challenging me to revisit the way I love, treat and care for those in my life.
Instead of heading to the checkout counter because my arms were full, I should have gotten a hand basket when we walked in, because you never quite know what you’ll find at a hobby store – or in life.
No Comments