When we got married, more than thirty years ago, we desired that the foundation of our marriage would be mutual love, open and given to others. However, from the very first months of our married life, we realized how different we were and how the love we wanted as the basis of our relationship had to be renewed at every moment.
We had to begin again each time our character or our different ways of seeing things seemed to distance us. This constantly renewed mutual love certainly helped us also in the difficult task of being parents.
Our differences, when faced through constructive dialogue, could help us in making decisions regarding our children.

A few years ago, one of our three children, then a teenager, asked if he could go to a nightclub with his friends. With the necessary recommendations, we agreed on a time and gave our consent. My wife could not fall asleep and, worried about his delay, woke me up. As we spoke anxiously, we heard him come back: she, on impulse, would have gone to him to scold him and demand explanations; I, instead, thought that we would ruin everything if we acted in such agitation and anger. Loving, at that moment, meant remaining silent, greeting him, and nothing more. The next day, at breakfast, with inner peace, we asked for an explanation, and our son shared with us what he had done and why he was late.
The things we had imagined the night before were not true: if we had spoken then and become angry, we would probably have damaged our relationship of trust. We realized that love lived within the family is contagious and attractive.

This summer, a friend of our children came to visit us. He arrived smiling with his fiancée and invited us to their wedding, telling us that for him we are like close relatives. We have known him since he was a child; he often came to our home, especially when his parents separated and he went through difficult times. We always welcomed him with the warmth of family, together with our children, sharing meals, celebrations, and holidays with him. That August afternoon, he wanted us to meet his fiancée and to tell us their love story. The negative experience of his parents’ marriage had long made him doubt the value of marriage, so it was a great joy for us to see that in him trust had prevailed—trust in a love that would last forever. In our family, grandparents have played an important role in transmitting values, especially my wife’s father, who came to live with us after becoming a widower.
He felt valued, made himself available for small services, and shared with us his days, his books, his memories. Our children loved him deeply: they listened to him when he spoke about his life, respected him when he gave advice, and laughed affectionately when he mispronounced words or forgot names. As he grew older and his health declined, the commitment and sacrifice required from all of us increased, especially for my wife, who cared for his needs. One particularly difficult day, when she felt constrained in her freedom, my wife went to Mass and asked Jesus for help.
The words of the Gospel: “If anyone wants to follow me, let him take up his cross daily and follow me” helped her to take a step forward.
The external situation had not changed, but she had changed interiorly.

That period became an opportunity for us and for our children: we often gave up our own plans to love the grandfather, and this certainly strengthened our relationships. One of our children expressed very well, in a letter, what he received from this experience: “‘To love, one must always love, especially those who hinder you.’
Grandpa was sitting on the hospital bed and had just come through a difficult night with the nurses and perhaps with himself. Behind that phrase, said at that moment, I immediately felt I fully grasped what he wanted to tell me. When one is elderly, and perhaps also ill, it is natural to have many ‘hindrances.’
It was a beautiful life lesson to see how Grandpa faced daily the small renunciations placed before him.
From no longer being able to drive to, in the last months, no longer being able to eat on his own, with dozens, perhaps hundreds, of other small steps asked of him.
I was also able to experience daily how attached he was to life; and I had the good fortune to share with him many beautiful and difficult moments during his illness.

I saw the love that Mom and Dad had for Grandpa, and I felt the gratitude that Grandpa had toward us. I can say that Grandpa gave me a wonderful example of how to face death: with respect and awareness, but also with serenity and the certainty that it is not the end. The very deep love he still had for Grandma, even 18 years after her death, is perhaps the most beautiful example of his profound faith. A faith that was never taken for granted, but which, if embraced with trust and deep awareness, leads to Love.”
(Source: From Family in Action – Città Nuova – 2022)

Questions for family dialogue

• Where, in my and in our family life, is love asking today to be cared for with greater attention and concreteness?
• What fears dwell in our hearts, and how can we entrust them together, in order to live the present with renewed trust?
• To whom are we sent today, to bring closeness, care, and hope among families?