In another life I had a bunch of kids to raise. As I went about the business of preparing little humans for the world, there was a question that was asked by some or all of them at some point. “Do you love me more than…my sister…my brother…my mom?” In those days I just told them that I loved them all equally. As I think about and remember it, not one of them saw my response as a real answer. They wanted to know where they fell in Dad’s hierarchy of love. In some childlike way they were trying to figure out if they measured up and to do that they needed to know where they placed as it concerned how much I loved them.

Today I was presented with the opportunity to reevaluate my “go to” answer to “who do you love more?” I have to admit that back when the question was originally asked I knew that my answer wasn’t completely truthful. In a secret place I knew that I loved some…more….and some less. I never thought about why that was so because it didn’t seem right. In the moments when these conversations happened I knew there was something wrong with my thinking so I adopted a politically correct response to the question: “Who do you love more?” Years later it occurs to me that there was nothing incorrect about how I truly felt in those moments. At the time I dismissed what was true as my evil and wicked self coming through so I squelched that with what I thought was the appropriate position for a good parent. “I love you all equally.” But I didn’t…love them all equally.

Today Bella and I were sitting beside the pool and she asked me a question. It’s interesting to me to note that upfront she expected an answer. She asked, “Boss, who do you love more, me or my mom? You have to answer!” Bella’s mom is my youngest daughter. Through a series of difficult events it became necessary for my wife and I to adopt Bella. The truly disappointing thing through the whole process…the whole mess…was that my daughter did nothing to stop us. As the process began she rarely took advantage of the chances she had to visit with Bella. She did not make one court appearance. I think when at last the judge signed the adoption decree her mom was locked up somewhere in Georgia. We have not seen our daughter since we received full custody of Bella. My wife assigns most of the blame on my daughter’s mental health…she’s sick. Yes, my girl is mentally ill but not to the extent that abandoning one’s child is a reasonable thing. She knew what she was doing. How am I supposed to handle this when Bella’s questions about her mom become more demanding? “Sorry Bella, your mom wanted to be free…from you. She wanted a life where children are not safe….or wanted.” I mentally wrestle with this stuff often.

As I thought about how I was going to answer Bella’s question, she became impatient. I asked her how it would make her feel if I told her I love her mom more. How would that would feel? In fairness to Bella…she cannot imagine a world where she is not first in line as it concerns my affection. I really can’t explain what happened next. I can only say that it did. I told Bella the truth.

The words “between you and your mom…I love you more” came out of my mouth. At other times thoughtless words have fallen from my lips and I instantly regretted them. That did not happen this time. Having spoken them…in that moment…I understood why they were true… but now I had to explain myself to a seven year old little girl.

“Between you and your mom…I love you more.”

“What!? Why do you love me more!? You’re the dad….you’re supposed to love all your children the same!”

It occurred to me then why she asked the original question. She just wanted to make sure she fell in her proper place in the hierarchy. She wanted equal footing with the six who came before. Now I had an opened can of worms…and they were getting everywhere!

“Bella, in a perfect world a dad gets to love all his children equally…but the world we live in is not perfect…it’s broken…people are broken. I love you more because you…let…me love you more. When you’re sad we talk about it. When your mom was sad she wouldn’t talk about what was making her sad. When I ask you questions, you always tell me the truth. You are not afraid to tell me what’s in your heart. You trust me to keep you safe. When you hurt my feelings you always ask me later to forgive you. Your mom did none of those things. Your mom did not let me love her. I love you more because you let me.”

Having delivered my little speech, I waited a moment to see what was going to happen…how she would respond. She said, “But you still love everyone else, right?”

“I do…every chance I get…and when they let me.”

Since Bella is seven. I’ll probably have to circle back here when she’s seventeen to review how much I love her. I can foresee a time when I tell Bella, “I think I loved you more when you were little.” For the present I asked her, “So Bella, why do I love you more.?” With just a hint of haughtiness and a roll of her eyes she said, “Because I allow you to….now let’s get in that dang pool, it’s hot!”