The Love of My Life

 

 

I met the great love of my life at the age of 3.

My parents had him in the closet, all set to give to a family member for her Christmas present.  I found him, and my heart was eternally given away to him.

He was the one who knew me best in the world.  He heard my whispered words at night for 21 years, and he absorbed more tears and secrets than anyone since.  He joined me on every vacation I went on, and he read over my shoulder as I scarfed down at lightning speed every adventure Nancy Drew or Anne of Avonlea experienced.  He was one of my students when I taught on the chalkboard my dad built for me and my sister, and he always scored high in the leftover gradebooks Dad brought from school.  He even played the part of my groom, Jim, when my sister and I had pretend weddings.

My, he changed over the years.  He lost some hair and the buttons from the front of his outfit, his clothes became shabby, and the elastic has worn out.  Regardless, he was mine.  I saw the lost hair, the lost color on his cheeks, the torn clothing, but all I could see was the love of my life.

The only reason he was relegated to a shelf in the closet was the addition of an 80-pound labrador retriever who loved him almost as much as I did.  I carefully added him to my closet to protect him from the slimy mouth and energetic play of Lady.

The great love of my life was a 3-foot tall stuffed doll sewn to a soft plastic Bozo the Clown head.

To anyone else, including my sister apparently, he was creepy.  You know—-clowns.  

To me, he was my knight in shining armor, my best friend, my confidant, and my sleeping buddy.

Even at age 18 when he was no longer what he was to me at age 6, I had grown so used to his presence against me at night that I could not sleep well without him.  Our labrador forced me to transition to a body pillow instead.

I learned love from Bozo.

The truest type of love possible.

Bozo love ignores first impressions.  Bozo love is based on more than appearance.
From first impressions, Bozo was nothing but a creepy clown.  My eyes see something completely different.  I see him as the one I turned to at night when my heart felt full of disappointment or hurt.  He was the one who provided comfort that I would be OK.

True Bozo love sees beyond the surface.  

Even if you add 100 pounds, lose some hair, pick up new hobbies, I will still be there, loving away.   

I learned from Bozo that the first impression of an individual is rarely the real person. Anyone who ever met Anthony would know this was true.  He had the build of a linebacker and often had a grumpy personality, but he had the heart of a teddy bear, and he always was looking out for the person who needed some protection or some help.  


Bozo love accepts flaws.
Bozo has fallen apart more than once.  My grandmother took him at least 3 times during my childhood to sew a brand new body onto his head.  The week or so that it took her to do this was the longest week of my life each time.

Today, even with his 3rd body sewn to his head, Bozo still looks ragged.  His foot is torn, the stitching holding his plastic head to his body has come loose.  The face has almost all turned an old yellow.  His yarn hair has fallen out over the years, revealing bald spots.

Yet, I don’t care.  I love him as is.  

It is harder to apply Bozo love to real people.  
Real people can hurt you.
Real people can abandon you.

However, deep below that exterior, deep below those hurtful words, deep below the manipulation or abandonment is often a person with a deep hurt from childhood, scared and anxious.  

The hurt they inflict on others cannot be ignored or pushed under the rug, but Bozo love sees the truth of the person regardless of the actions.

Bozo love forgives—-even if it cannot reconcile.  
Bozo love forgives—even if it cannot forget.


Bozo love recognizes and increases value.
Growing up, we lived in the country where dry months or lightning strikes often caused fires.  I was terrified that our house would go up in flames.  I had a plan developed, one that involved taking all my important worldly belongings in a bag before I climbed out of the window.  Of course, the first item on the list was Bozo.

Regardless of the fact that I could not find a buyer for Bozo for even 50 cents at this point, there are few things in the house that I would not give up still for this childhood friend.  With the exception of my kids’ pictures, my laptop, and perhaps another item or two, and, of course, Bozo, all the rest could be given up without much heartache.

When we see the value in others, despite their appearance and their flaws, we increase their self-value.  

We build them up, we cheer them on, and we encourage them to recognize their own value.
They see themselves as priceless rather than as discount items on a Goodwill shelf.


One Caveat of Bozo love—”Bozo love” Yourself
Bozo love does not come without danger.  Unfortunately, I learned this the hard way.

Unconditional love, as taught by others, suggests forgiveness for others 24/7/365 with no accountability.
Unconditional love, as taught by others, suggests that others come before yourself.
Unconditional love, as taught by others, often suggests that any Bozo love saved for yourself is selfish.

However, this type of unconditional love focused on the wrong person can lead to problems.
Bozo love does not mean loving others so much you ignore yourself.
Bozo love does not mean becoming a doormat or becoming the object of manipulation.

Bozo love means loving yourself the same exact way you love others.  
You accept your own flaws, your own quirks, and your own value.  
You are a clown, and you know it, and you are proud of it!
You have torn spots in your facade, you have missing “hair,” and feel as if you are a trivial item, but you love yourself as is.

Any time you allow someone else to lower your value,
Any time you ignore another’s flaws and instead only criticize your own flaws,
Any time you ignore your own thoughts and feelings and allow someone else’s thoughts and statements to supercede your own value,

Any of these times, true Bozo love asks you to walk away,
To hug yourself, and
To allow yourself to begin anew, forgiving but with boundaries.  
Bozo love sees the value in YOU, regardless of what others see or say.


Because of Bozo love:

• Both of my sons could grow purple hair, get face tattoos, announce they were gay or transgender, live in the Arctic in an igloo, and ignore me altogether, but they would still be loved.   And loved BIG.  And loved FOREVER.  (And, P.S. I tell them both that every chance I get).  My love for them is not based on their actions or inactions. 
  

• I can work with someone who purposely hurt me in the past and try to move forward, carefully, one step at a time.
  

• I can be civil to those whom I loved for ten years who suddenly decided after Anthony’s death that they would rather not have me around. 
  

• I can recall positive memories of individuals, even after they have verbally attacked me, abandoned me, and manipulated me.  This does not mean that I want to invite them to dinner or open myself to more of their games, but I can see some aspects of the children within.
  

• Because of Bozo love, I can peacefully fall asleep at night, knowing I have loved others.  
• Because of Bozo love, I am content knowing that while I love others, I also love myself, with all my flaws, all my quirks, and my figurative 3rd sewn-on body.

The love of my life, Bozo, taught me to love others.  

And he taught me how to love me.