I have written at length about my decision not to have children.
I think it is a good thing for everyone involved - for me, who needs 4 or 5 hours of alone time every day, and for my non-existent progeny, who don't have to put up with my cranky ways.
(Oh, yes I am. Everyone who meets me thinks "Oh, Suebob, she's so nice, so kind, such a good listener." For about 2 weeks. People who have known me longer than that admit "Yeah, Suebob, she is one cranky wench!")
The one thing I think I have missed out on is getting to feel the love parents feel for their children. I gush about my dog (the best dog in the world) but I have a feeling that nothing can compare to the love you have for a child that you are doing your best to grow into a good human.
Petroville has a heart-wrenching post about recognizing her own mother's love for her and apologizing for not realizing it at the time.
I had a glimpse of it the other day, when my mother, who is 80, was remembering a time 40 years ago.
We had gone camping and I had gotten terribly chapped skin from playing in a creek and in the sun. She put some lotion on me that, instead of soothing my sensitive skin, made me feel like I was being boiled alive. Something in it, perfume maybe, just reacted badly with me.
"You SCREAMED, oh," she said, tears filling her eyes. I could see the pain was as fresh then as it had been 4 decades before.
That's Big Momma Love.
How do you bear it?