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I found this blog from a few years ago that I never posted.  I don't recall why, but after a quick edit, I decided to post it since it is still relevant (original post is in red):

I don't say "I love you" very much.  I don't say it to many people either.  Never have.  Not because I don't love, or even find it hard to love, but because of what it means.  I think that I may be "in my head" about it, but I think the word LOVE is the strongest word we as people can use (in context).  Therefore, I do not take it lightly, nor do I throw it around casually.  I've come to realize however, that I should loosen up on my usage and not cling so tightly to my "I love you"'s as if there were only a finite number of them to be spoken.  

A few years ago, through a series of brief conversations, I was told that I had not told my grandmother that I loved her since I was a little boy.  After a brief period of reflection, I realized that indeed I hadn't!  I of course love my gramma very much and was embarrassed/ashamed that I hadn't put into words in so many years.  So I told her immediately.  And again the next time I saw her.  That's the genesis of this post.

I have to remind myself to tell people I love them because it doesn't come naturally.  I feel weird saying it even if I really, REALLY mean it.  And I feel like I'm awkward about it when it's said to me too.  Dash is the exception.  He gets as many as I can fit in a day and it feels completely natural.  Everybody else is awkward and forced.  It's a problem, I know, but at least I'm not raising him to be an "I love you" tight-wad. 

I have a few guy friends that will tell me that they love me as part of their farewell and it always stymies me.  I freeze and stammer something like, "Uh, see you later man...."  Not only do I rarely expect it being said, but I don't know how to respond!  I feel like a jerk for not saying it back.  Most of the time anyway.

Here's why I think it seems to be more difficult for me than others.  I've seen countless people say it and have no idea what they mean by it, or not know what love means (at least in the way that I perceive what love is).  I've seen it used improperly as a manipulative tool.  I've seen it used when really the correct word should have been lust.  I've seen people say it and NOT mean it.  It annoys me to no end and I don't want to fall into those categories.  When I say it, I want it to be meaningful, I want it to matter, I want to mean it (as I have defined its meaning to myself).  

The older I get, the less stock I put into words.  The action is always more meaningful, so in my mind I'd rather show you love than tell you (I'm not great at either). And the counter is true: I don't need to hear that you love me (although it's nice) - I'd rather see it.  I've taken it to an extreme though and should vocalize it more.  Do I love my parents? Absolutely.  Do I love my brothers and their families?  Definitely.  Do I love my extended family?  Of course.  Do I love my friends?  Some of them, yes.  So as of my 38th bday, I am making a conscious decision to say it more.  I should.  Not to everyone, but the one's I've waited too long to tell.

I'm trying.  Just know that if I've EVER told you, then I meant it (and it's likely that I still do). And if I ever do tell you, consider it the best thing I can say to another person.  Because it is.

Fam

Over the last 3 years my thoughts and feelings towards "family", and what that means, have changed.  Maybe not a lot, maybe not at all, but I've definitely been thinking about and articulating what I want family to mean to me.

  

Ever since my little family was whittled from 4 down to 2, it's been on my mind a lot.  Rightly so.  I don't see Kaed much anymore, and though I still have a great relationship with him, his absence has had a greater impact on me than most realize.  In my previous post, I waxed poetic on how much Dash loves his brother and wants him around all the time.  I'm in the same boat.  Kaed was not just my girlfriend/wife's kid, he became like a son to me.  He was a catalyst in my being with Leah in the first place.  It was a priviledge to care for him and I openly welcome (still) every opportunity.  (Kaed's got a great dad btw)  But with him around much less now, it's caused some things to come into focus for me regarding Dash. 

Dash.  DSL.  Little Diesel.  My little boy is going to be in kindergarten next year!  How is this possible?  How am I this old?  Ha.  Lately I've been reading a lot on children who come from "broken homes" and study after study confirms some of my biggest fears: kids are like their parents!  Shoot.  What is normal in a child's life will most likely be the norm in their own homes as adults.  I'll be honest, that's a little scary.  And I'm going to do whatever I can to prevent some of his current "norms" don't become permanent norms.  I probably aught to stop reading all these parenting studies because all they seem to do is freak me out.  Knowledge = responsibility = prevention = A TON OF PRAYER & THE WORD.  

"Your children will become what you are; so be what you want them to be." -David Bly

Brotherly Love

Dash loves his older brother.  There's no getting around it.  For example, this weekend when he had his 5th birthday party, he was very happy to see each of his friends and family, but when I told him that Kaed was coming...."Yeeessssssssss!"  To Dash, everything is better when Kaed is there.  Everything.  Even showers apparently.  Dash took a second shower the other day just because Kaed needed one - so he jumped in with him - then told me that he wouldn't need another one for 2 days because he took an extra one.  (smart kid, nice try)  What's really sweet of him is that when he doesn't get to seem him he's genuinely sad.  I mean, it's sad, and sweet.  There is no "half" brother status between them, and I love it.  the really great thing is that Kaed reciprocates the feelings.  He really likes having little bro around.  They have a lot of fun together.  And I am truly thankful.  Iron sharpens iron after all.