What is it about loving someone that feels so good? I mean, loving a grandchild is the most of the mostest. Right? Is mostest a word? I think so. It’s on the website
Definition of MOSTEST
most·est | \ ˈmō-stəst \ nonstandard, often humorous - used in place of most (as in imitation of childlike speech) …
I look at the road we’re on. It’s supposed to be this seamless, straight path, a little bumps here and there. Maybe a pothole or two. Maybe a detour every once in a while, but sometimes, it’s like I’m four-wheeling in the Sahara Desert in a 40 year old mini Opel sedan. Hehehehe 😄. And, yes. I drove an Opel a while ago. It was a lot of fun. We, my close friends and I, in high school, actually pushed it more than we drove it, but it was a lot of fun. There was lots of laughter learning about how to set points on a car and all those neat things needed in a car to make it drive.
I think we learn about love from the womb. We’re in this beautiful warm and comfy place. We don’t have a care in the world. Then we’re born and there are all of these people smiling at us — almost all of the time.
As we begin to learn to walk — lots and lots of encouragement, laughter, “oh no’s!!!,” did I say lots of encouragement. The I love you, you’ve got this kind of encouragement. Which didn’t stop, dependent on the family you grow up in.
But even if not in your family, there, I hope, is always that person, somewhere, who had a good word, a cheerful, hopeful demeanor — saying, “You’ve got this. Get back up again.”
Back to the road. It looks pretty sturdy. At least in the middle right? Then somewhere in the beginning or is that the end is the beginning of another journey? We realize there are a LOT of detours, roller coaster type roads, valleys, highways, side roads, creeks, rivers, bays, lakes to drive over. Ditches to almost run into, curbs we rub our tires against, steep cliffs just on the other side of the passenger door. How do we respond?