The other night I was The Biggest Loser and one of the contestants brought up how guilty he felt that he hadn't had one more chance to tell his mom that he loved her before she passed away.
My immediate reaction was, she knew.
I have two sons.
One says "I love you" every single day, sometime multiple times a day. The other has only said it on a handful of occasions.
Do I think one son loves me more than the other?
Absolutely not. Hell to the no. And that is absurd.
I tell all three of my boys that I love them on a daily basis. It's just how I am.
Verbalizing it is how I express it to them. However, it is by no means the only way.
My boys show me they love me in so many ways.
When they give me an unsolicited hug.
Or a solicited one for that matter. They are boys and they are at an age where hugs are not necessarily cool.
When they need me to comfort them in some way. You could argue that is their need and not their love but if they didn't love and appreciate me, would they even want my comfort? I don't think so.
When they come home from school or a friend's house and they can't wait to tell me something. Or in Jack's case, he can't wait to avoid my questions with general answers. They may be great kids but they are by no means perfect.
When they wave from the sidewalk as they head off to school. Or give me the peace sign, in Kamden's case. It's our thing.
When they clean toilets. This might be #1 on the list.
When they smile at me.
It's the simple things really.
And in that moment watching that grown son worry that his mom didn't know, I wanted to tell him, she knew.