One of my earliest memories of unconditional love occurred in the spring of 1975. I was six. My four sisters and I were huddled around the television in the family room watching Saturday morning cartoons when my father poked his head in and said with a big smile on his face, “Turn the TV off and come into the living room. Your mom’s got a surprise for you.”
Hearing the word surprise, we all jumped up and ran into the living room. But as we turned the corner, we were stopped in our tracks by the sight of our mother sitting in a chair at the other end of the room with a stack of beautifully wrapped presents at her feet.
Frozen and fixed on our mother’s every move, we waited in anticipation for what would come next. Without any delay or explanation, she proceeded to call out all our names, oldest to youngest, and presented us each with a gift.
When my name was called, I ran to my mother’s side, thanked her for the gift and plopped down on the floor right in front of her. To my delight, I found something I had always wanted, a collection of plastic dinosaurs, caves and cavemen.
Consumed by my gift, I was a bit oblivious to what my sisters received. But what I wasn’t oblivious to was the fact that it wasn’t a holiday, someone’s birthday or special occasion. It was just an ordinary day. Curious to the reason for our gifts, I went to my mother and asked, “Mom, I really like my present. I really do, more than anything, but I was wondering. Why did I get a present today? It’s not like it’s my birthday or anything like that?”
She smiled a smile only a loving mother could smile and playfully replied, “Just because.”
My curiosity not satisfied, I asked, “Because of what?”
“No reason. No reason at all. Just because.” She said with that same smile.
“You mean you gave us all presents just because, for no reason at all?” I asked.
“That’s right.” She replied with joy. “Now go and play with your dinosaurs.”
And play I did well into the night.
As I laid in bed that night with a dinosaur in each hand, thinking about this extraordinary day, I couldn’t help but come to the realization that it was possible for me, a six-year old boy, to love and be loved “just because,” for “no reason at all.”
Now as a man, deeply and positively affected by my early childhood revelation, I have come to the conclusion through much trial and error that it is not only possible to love without reason, but it is, in fact, the only way to love.
Life Mastery Coach