Love your children equally... or not.

Recently, I attended the funeral of a dear friends' father.  It was just.... wonderful.  Each of his adult children spoke in memory of their Dad, and it struck me how unique our relationships are with our parents, distinct even from our siblings.  Such different grounding forces created such strong relationships within this single family.  The adult children spoke of gardening, the practice of law, charity, travel.  They each had their own channel with their father.  Beautiful.

I think we jump to tell our children we love them all.  We stress they're loved equally.  But is that what they're really wondering or asking?  Are they really convinced (or comforted?) that our love for them lies in perfect proportion to their siblings?  Is that precise equality the real answer?  When our children ask these questions from us- even in a roundabout way as it so often happens, I think maybe what they really want to know is.... how much do you love ME?  What do you love about ME?

Instead of loving my children with a large blanket, I want to make a quilt with each- some may have the same squares- maybe we will all love music, skiing or Mexican food (hint: we do) .  This means spending hours talking to one and having quiet compatible time with another.  We can bond over our similarities, we can bond over how different we are and what we can teach each other.  If I can, I want to fill them so much to the brim with love, they don't look at the others' tank, wondering.  Is your tank full, little one?  Let's fill it until it overflows and you wriggle away from me, sated and ready to orbit a bit further from this central mass of parents and home.  

Having lots of children and coming from a large family also means I hope they don't so much try to niche- feeling they can't be the smart or funny or athletic "one" because that role is already taken.  You are making your own quilt, in your own time.  There is room for all of us in this life- room for our overlaps and our distances from one another.  You can bloom early, late, or as expected.... you can wilt and come back stronger than ever.  You, my little one, are running your own race (or walking... or quitting and taking up a new sport.... or inventing a sport... or deciding you hate sports).  Whatever you build (or break)- nobody but you and I can be us, and us is enough.  Wish us luck in trying to build this family culture.  We know we will fail and succeed. And try again.