My Foundation for Love : Part 2

by Paul Mauchline

(Page 2 of 2)

My Mom searched the local newspapers to find such a family, and spoke with many potential families who cared for children in a foster home situation. Unfortunately, she came across an obstacle: these families were only interested in caring for little girls, not little boys. I guess the universe saw my Mom's dilemma. Her prayers were answered one day when a call came from a woman named Margaret, who had no problem with little boys. So it was settled after meeting Margaret that I would live with her, her husband Frank, and their three much older sons. In looking back at it today, I kind of feel like the young boy named Ernie who was adopted by the father character, Fred MacMurray, portrayed in the 60's television series "My Three Sons" -- the only difference was that I had Margaret as my Mom, they had Uncle Charlie.

As a young lad of two, hearing their sons calling Margaret and Frank "Mom" and "Dad," I naturally followed suit. That has not changed in 42 years. I am truly blessed that I grew up with two mothers who loved me, when so many children have grown up with none. My second family did not have a fancy house, and I know now they were just getting by, but they were a family that practiced love unconditionally, with my second Mom as the conductor. As an adult, I have come to recognize that it was indeed a wonderful, loving place in which to grow up during those so very important early years of my life. I have so many vivid, loving memories with my second family, especially with Margaret, my second Mom. They are memories full of love with no fear.

I remember, at the age of four, being required to go outside and play on one winter's day. I hated the cold and winter, in general. To this day, should anyone ask my Mom of my love for winter, a smile would come across her face. She would tell you of my dislike for cold weather and tell stories about me as a little boy. Hence, I guess my choice, as an adult, to live in a tropical climate comes as no surprise. Maybe being born on the Winter Solstice has some bearing on my preference for warm climates over cold. In any case, on that day, as was customary, Mum dressed me and out I went, without any chatter, into the cold and snow of our backyard.

On that particular day, I was playing what I called "hockey foot": playing hockey on the backyard skating rink, without skates, and sliding on my boots with a hockey stick twice my size. I guess I was into speed that day. Suddenly, I hit a rut in the ice, sending me flying through the air and landing on my forehead with a big crash. I knew I was hurt, but that was an understatement: my blood was flowing on the ice like a stream. I ran into the house, not crying, just yelling for my Mom. I still can see the look on her face when she came running. I can well imagine what was going through her mind, especially since I was in her care. Before I knew it, I was bandaged temporarily and rushed to the doctor. I remember the elderly doctor ever-so-slowly stitching up my forehead, while my Mom held my hand and praised me for being such a brave boy. I did not shed a tear through that whole experience, and I know the reason why today. The love I received from Margaret and Frank created so much love within me with no fears. There are many other experiences in my four years living with them that I could share: all experiences of love. My second Mom and Dad provided me with my Foundation For Love. For that, I am eternally grateful. As an adult in my 30's, I was going through yet another episode of emotional hurt. It was then that I finally recognized this foundation for healing and my return to love.

That day -- devastated and hurt from this failed loving relationship -- the sight of this child with no fear had brought me back to my childhood to enable me to heal. What were really only a few minutes seemed, to me, like an hour on the beach as I watched mother and child frolic in the ocean. Little did they know the gift they gave me: how they had helped me with my pain and returned me back to a place of love. My tears stopped and my thoughts now drifted to the happy times I shared with my ex-love. This in my opinion is the only way to forgive someone who has hurt you: by remembering only the good and throwing away the hurtful thoughts and memories.

Two of my fathers have been dead for many years; my mothers live on, still loving me in there own special way. My birth Mom taught me to keep life simple; it is her influence that helps me keep a sense of order in my life. My second Mom gave me my first lessons of love. She provided me with My Foundation for Love, which has made me into the man I am today. For she is one of the few who love me unconditionally and never judge me. My second Mom has seen my happiness and my sadness over the years. She has been my chief confidant when it has come to the affairs of my heart. Even though we are not blood-related, in my eyes she will always be my Mom, and in her now blind eyes I will always be her son -- let no one say differently. Because of her, and because of the Foundation for Love that she gifted me, even in difficult times, I can return to this place where I feel full of love, happy, and complete.

Katherine Ann Porter wrote, " Love must be learned, and learned again and again; there is no end to it." I have learned many valuable lessons in my life. I've learned about choices. I've learned about self-love. I've learned that sometimes loving yourself and another means having to make the difficult choice to walk away from a situation that is not healthy for either partner. Today I clearly recognize the impact of fear in life: how it brings out ego and defensiveness, and takes away love from our life. My experiences have brought me to this thought, or call it an equation, for today which I would like to share with you: Love = Life, Fear = No Life. I truly feel there is no in between.

In conclusion, I believe each of us, somewhere in our life experience, has our own Foundation for Love. I urge you to search for yours, if you have not found it already. Always remember there is a place that allows you to Return To Love.

About the Author

The Art of Loving