How do you say "I love you"?

After I'm gone, I hope my children only fight over 6 words said softly in their ear as they grew up in our home...

"You know you're my favorite...right?"

Lord knows there won't be a big inheritance!  No, I'm not planning to die soon.  I was just thinking today about what a parent like myself wants to leave as a legacy for their children.  I desperately want my children to know that they were loved.

I tried to take time with each child as often as I could- certainly not often enough. I would quietly say that small sentence into their ear.  Kelsey and Michael understood and kept the secret.  Each one would curl into my arms with a soft smile of contentment glowing on their face.  At that moment I knew they believed me with all the love I was trying to convey it with.  

Andy to this day, usually says in a loud voice "Your favorite?!" as his brown eyes light up with the warm word surrounding him. (Gotta love that boy).  He will probably never outgrow that simple phrase- and I'm good with that.  I think of him as my 'forever child'.  Always a bit innocent, forever smiled upon by God.

Sometimes those words were used after a fight, and sometimes it was after a moment they made me proud. But when they were little, it was just before I tucked them into bed.  I used those words not in an attempt to play one against the other, but to give them one small moment when they knew each was the center of my universe.  

Don't we all want to be the central focus of the ones we love?  Every child wants to feel special.  The more chaos in the house, the less love and attention they tend to absorb- no matter how much you try.  So I stuck with what always made them smile...

"You know you're my favorite...right?"

All three of my children are my favorite 'something'.  I have more reasons than I can type here- favorite daughter, favorite singer, favorite son, favorite sports fanatic, favorite skinny boy, favorite soccer player, etc.  Everyone has special qualities that make them especially dear to someone else.  

My kids kept me running day and night for many years.  I was always busy, usually overwhelmed, and very tired when they were young.  As they got older, the opportunities to whisper in their ear decreased.  I moved from "Are you ready for bed?" to "Please wake me up when you come in tonight- and it better be before curfew- and don't call 5 minutes before curfew and ask if you can stay out longer!"    

If I could do it all over again- I would go back to the age when each of my children  accepted those words unconditionally. There came a time with Kelsey and Michael when it occurred to them that I might not be only calling them 'my favorite'.  

Cornering a mother with her own words is a dangerous game to play, but I was ready.  I switched tactics...

"I love you more."

It's the kind of statement that doesn't have to be initiated with "I love you." It has an infinite feel on the tongue.  You can't really enhance it with flowery adjectives.  It stands alone and it is powerful.

Now, when I drop Kelsey off at college, we hug, I give her a kiss on the cheek, and we say good bye.  Almost without fail, I will drive 1 block down the road and my cell phone will chirp.

"Love you Mom."

My answer was typed before I've even started the car, ready to hit send.

"I Love you more."

As Michael became older, and his struggles more complex, I bought a plaque.  It was perfect and I hung in the back hallway for all to see.

When Mike first saw it he asked "Is that for me?"  I said, "Absolutely!  Now don't forget it."  Sometimes after a difficult moment, I look at that plaque and remind myself how true those words are.  When I have a special moment with Michael- my whisper in his ear is now... 

"Forever and always- no matter what."

The original use of 'favorite' has undergone a transformation at my house.  I now tend to use it when I get an unexpected act of kindness- "Oh thank you so much, now you're my favorite!" I may say to one of the kid's friends, just to tease them all- "Alex, just so you know- you are my favorite!"  After all these years, one of my kids will surely exclaim in mock horror, "But I thought I was your favorite!!"  

Not a bad legacy to leave the Earth with...even in my small world.