HOW DO YOU SHOW YOUR LOVE?
One of my family’s most cherished traditions is the Mother’s Day book. Every Mother’s Day my dad makes a book out of construction paper, glue, and snapshots from the year. It’s his love letter to my mom. When I was little, we would read it huddled together on their bed. Now, from college, we call in over FaceTime. The ritual is the same—only the setting has changed.
The love letter, however, is in the details. The inside jokes in captions, the carefully chosen photos and the way he remembers every little moment. His love isn’t shared through notes, but through his dedication to this tradition year after year.
As I’ve grown up, I’ve come to see that my dad is always writing love letters, just not the kind you might expect. His love letters are the time and effort he puts into those scrapbooks, in the way he drops our family off in the city so we don’t have to walk from the parking spot, in the huge amount of UW-Madison merch in his office and in the rule that sibling time can be funded by my parents. Most importantly, my dad has taught me that love letters don’t have to be fancy or poetic, and that sometimes they’re just small acts of care.
A playlist is a love letter too. Songs can carry so much meaning: friendship, joy, connection, love. Sharing a song can mean even more than a letter if done correctly. When I first arrived at college, I made a playlist of my roommate’s favorite songs so we could dance together while getting ready each morning. We had just met, but this was my way of saying, “I want to be friends.” Like my dad’s scrapbook, the playlist was small, simple, and full of care—a love letter without words.
A phone call is a love letter. Maybe it’s just to pass the time on a walk to class, but it says, I could spend this moment thinking about anything, and I choose you. The loyalty and attention, even when things are busy or hard, is a love letter.
A close friend once told me, “I think that’s the right choice, but no matter what you decide, I’ll be here for you.” Simple, but it stuck with me. Her encouragement was a love letter, too. She listened patiently as I worked through the same problem again and again until I felt better. Her attention and care were a love letter in themselves, and a quiet reminder that love can show up in presence and commitment as much as in words.
In recent months, my mom has discovered Instagram videos and keeps coming back to one favorite of a frog stuffed animal with little messages about missing a daughter in college. Those videos are love letters and her way of reminding me that our relationship matters to her each day. Even in a short clip, it can say the same thing as any handwritten note: I’m thinking of you and I care about you.
I also think a memory can serve as a love letter. Replaying a moment with a friend, thinking about what someone means to you, holding a small moment close just because it mattered. This act reminds ourselves of the love we have felt for ourselves and for others, having the same effect as a love letter.
I’ve come to think that love letters can be found in the smallest actions like sending and receiving mundane updates throughout the day. A text about lunch, a photo of the sunset or a video that made someone laugh all convey the same thing—that their friendship matters even on the most boring and uneventful days. The love lays in the thought and effort.
My dad still makes the Mother’s Day book. Glue, paper, inside jokes, tiny details. His love letters taught me that they don’t have to be written at all. They can be playlists, phone calls, a stuffed frog, or a three-word text. So let’s keep writing them in whatever form they take. Every small gesture matters, and together they make life so full of love.