A little more than 15 years ago, my fiance asked if I was going to cry at our wedding. I explained that all she had to do was put a television behind her playing the final scenes of the movie “Rudy” starring Sean Astin, and I’d be a goner. Needless to say, that didn’t happen, and while I’m not a “cryer” at many things, I have become one to choke up while watching sappy movies, tv shows, or reading about inspirational stories of hope and perseverance. But what really gets me to the point of tears are the moments when I read bedtime stories to my children. And no story gets me EVERY time like Robert Munsch’s I’ll Love You Forever.

“I’ll love you forever,

I’ll like you for always,

as long as I’m living,

my baby you’ll be.”

A mother starts singing this song to her son when he’s a baby, and then the story follows him through all the stages of his life. At every step of the way, his mother is there, singing him to sleep with their special song — even after he’s married, moved out, and has kids of his own. In a full circle moment, the son holds his mother in his arms:

“I’ll love you forever,

I’ll like you for always,

as long as I’m living,

my baby you’ll be.”

But before “Love You Forever” was a nursery staple, it was a simple, four-line song too painful to sing out loud. Robert Munsch would sing silently to himself after his wife gave birth to a stillborn baby. It was the second stillbirth the couple had to mourn.

For a long time, he couldn’t even share it with his wife. 

“[The song] was my way of crying,” Munsch told The Huffington Post. Munsch often performed his material in front of crowds before writing anything down. One day, the song was in the back of his mind while he was performing at a theater. He made up a story to accompany the song on the spot, and just like that, “Love You Forever” poured out on stage. 

The song, and the story, were a source of comfort amidst loss. The book became a best seller for people of all ages, in all stages of life; a tribute to the unending love of parents to their children. 

This is the promise we make to our children- proclaiming that until our last breath, we will be there for them- physically and emotionally; with all our hearts, with all our souls, with all our might; unadulterated, unconditional love.  

With all your heart with all your soul with all your might. 3 times a day we remind ourselves that we should love with every fiber of our being, and what, or rather who should we love?…God. The hope is that God, our parent, will be there for us, God’s children, a relationship steady through the storms and adversities that would derail other relationships 

Medieval commentator Rashi explains “V’ahavta” AND YOU SHALL LOVE [THE LORD] — Fulfill His commands out of love, for one who acts out of love is not like one who acts out of fear. He who serves his master out of fear, if God troubles him overmuch, leaves him and goes away (Sifrei Devarim 32:1).

When you sign on to love without condition, we love even when things are tough. DOes that love always manifest as unwavering, confident, and overflowing? No. Unconditional love doesn’t mean it’s easy, or that it’s beautiful 24/7.

Professor and Researcher Brene Brown explains in a podcast on love and vulnerability: 

So I have to start by debunking one of the worst myth in the world, and that is the myth that strong, lasting relationships are always 50-50. I call BS. That is not the case. Strong, lasting relationships are rarely 50-50, because life does not work that way. Strong, lasting relationships happen when your partner or friend or whoever you’re in relationship with, can pony up that 80% when you are down to 20, and that your partner also knows that when things fall apart for her, and she only has 10% to give, you can show up with your 90, even if it’s for a limited amount of time

Brown and her husband check in by telling each other their levels in terms of “energy, investment, kindness, patience.”

And what about the times when neither partner is doing well, and no one has anything to give? When Brown and her husband are both running on empty, she said they “sit down at the table anytime we have less than 100 combined and figure out a plan of kindness toward each other.” -Even that moment, -in other words, the “how do you not kill the other person?” moment, you find a relationship built on trust. 

The pact we make with our loved ones is at its core a mindset; a mindset that we are doing as much as we can, lovingly; that even the most difficult moments are informed by the love that guides them. 

Our V’ahavta prayer teaches a love of the divine, and in turn, a love of all who are created in God’s image. All of us. Why should unconditional love be a gift we give to an exclusive group. Is it a capacity issue- that we don’t have a full enough heart to embrace all the world’s tzuris? No, in fact Brown’s model reassures us that we DO have the capacity to love. 

We are here on Shabbat Nachamu, a shabbat of comfort, a shabbat that follows our darkest hour as a people. The aftermath of the 9th of av meant we had to find other reminders of our relationship with the divine- through teaching our children, everywhere and at every moment, giving us reminders that God is still with us in the depths of despair. It is sometimes in the darkness that we see how love manifests itself, even towards a stranger.

When we gather to bury a loved one, our clergy often speak of the most selfless act one can perform hesed shel emet, an act of true lovingkindness. Burying a member of a community is an act that we do without an expectation of reward or even a simple thank you, but we do so out of obligation, and really, out of love. When there are mourners in our midst, who in Brown’s criteria are hovering over 0%, we have the capacity, collectively, to be that other 100. We do so well in honoring the dead, comforting the mourner; it’s time to think of ways we can honor the living, and comfort the struggling. 

In practical terms, it means running the full range of a human decency scale- holding off on judgment when you think you’ve been wronged but don’t know the whole story; raising someone up through the act of hakarat hatov– acknowledging the good- be they a stranger, coworker, or loved one. Each act is an affirmation that we all are co creators of a future we can all be proud of. Empathy and compassion are the ingredients to move us past mere civility and into a spiritual space, a Jerusalem on high. The mourning of our temples is a “we’ve all been there” reminder to not be quick to anger, but quick to offer an open hand and an open heart.

The stresses of life are rampant…they bog each of us down and the weight, the anxiety is often overwhelming. But each of us has the capacity to be a little more decent, a little more understanding , and a little more loving. With all our collective souls and all our collective might, we’ll build a new Jerusalem of unconditional love and support, a community on high and down here on Earth.