Crazy, Loco Love

When I read Karen Maezen Miller’s declaration of love on Mothering in the Middle, I knew after the first two sentences that the post I’d been writing had become a draft for another day.

Crazy, loco love stretches us in more than just directions when it comes to our children. Ms. Miller’s boldness and vulnerability opens up a space for conflict and love to traverse.

On loving a teenager

“They love us in a different way.

I said that when someone asked what it was like to have a teenager.

I feel like we’ve lost a daughter.

My husband said that after a silent and inconsequential Sunday.

Just shut up.

I said that to her after a ride in the car yesterday.

And yet, there is love, so much love between us and it has gone nowhere! I am standing on the high bluff over death valley, infinite openness in all directions, stunned dumb in the emptiness, but I know the space before me is pure love. Pure love. Life grows here, even when we can’t see it. Refreshed in a cool night, fed by invisible rivulets. A whisper of sea sails five hundred miles across five mountain ranges, and the whisper is this.

They love us in a different way.

They love us in the space, the space that is nothing but love…”

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4 thoughts on “Crazy, Loco Love

  1. Wow. What an opportune time to find this poem. It’s hard for me to see the pure love in the silences and the desplantes I get from a child who’s not even mine, and who I know so desperately needs me, and who is trying her hardest to push me away. Or is she? What a trying time. Thanks, Liz.

    • I was grateful for the reminder as well because, like you, when we’re sucked into their chaos, we lose perspective. It’s a gut wrenching time and the last thing on my mind was love in any form period, but it’s there, there’s no denying it. That’s why you open your home and heart the way you do, mujer. During our bleakest moments, I’ve said, “We don’t have to be the enemy.”, but they push anyway, as if daring us to react and follow through with one of their biggest, yet unspoken fear of rejection.

      • That’s what I just told one of my girls last week: I’m not your enemy. And I guess it’s just their hormone-riddled brain that doesn’t understand they’re facing rejection if they continue rejecting us the way they do. And on an intellectual level I sort of understand, but at the gut level it’s too damn hard. 😦 hugs

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