I do not remember my mother ever telling me that she loved me. Maybe she did, but if she did, I do not remember.
I do remember the first time that my Dad told me that he loved me. It was Easter Sunday 1996. I was 38 years old. Mom had been dead for a year, so Dad was finally able in his adult life to be the person that he wanted to be. [how sad is that.]
Anyway, he came out to church that Easter Sunday and came to the house for lunch after church. He was sitting on the deck and I walked by to get something out of the kitchen. As I walked by he said, "Son, I love you and I am proud of you." I was pleasantly surprised. I still think of it as a very happy moment.
Because of the lack of hearing that I was loved, I made sure that my kids heard it, and that they still do. No one should grow up wondering if they are loved or not.
If you are not saying "I love you" to the people that you love, then it is time to start. 3 small words that mean a great deal.
I love you!!!
It's a beautiful day in God's world, be sure to see the good.
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