Life lessons about Love

I was conversing with Charlie last night and one of the things he said really resonated with mee. He said his sister had been a sycophant to their unstable father in order to have her emotional needs fulfilled. It resonated, because I felt that my sisters did the same.

I remembered when I was a little girl, how much my father and I did not get along, and how much I resented my sister, because he loved her more than me. It was a personal affront, him dangling her on his knee, hugging her and kissing her. He never did that with me. And I hated him, and I tried to get rid of her: I dumped her in the diaper pail often enough that when she went missing that was the first place they looked.

It occurred to me to wonder, what impact did that have on me as a child, on the adult I became? What lessons about love did I take away from the emotionally and physically combative relationship we had? Did I learn from him that I was not lovable? Did I learn that there was not enough love to go around? Did I learn that love shared, like candy, means less for me? Did I learn to settle for less love than I wanted? Or did I learn that the best way to make up for a love deficit was to collect around me people I could love and who would love me?

Regardless of the lessons of childhood, of how my flawed parents flawed loving shaped me, today I understand these things:

Life may be like a box of chocolates,
but Love is not like a piece of candy.
Sharing Love does not mean less for me.
Love divided (shared), multiplies.