Recollect the Love

Written for https://lindaghill.com/2026/02/13/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-feb-14-2026/

There are many types of love.

When we are children, we love those who take care of us. Love shared from parents, siblings, carers – home. My brother is ten years older than me. When we see or speak to each other, we revert to the little girl knowing her brother is one of the most clever people. My sister died three years ago, and I think of her every day. Our phone calls remain; one of my precious recollections. A classy lady, we shared our week, families, for a moment in time, we were together.

Over the years, our family unit has changed. Having two mums or dads or single — parent families is not unusual. That doesn’t mean they are less meaningful. We all know, as long as there is love, it doesn’t matter.

The love for my children and grandchildren.

I think we purposely recollect the funny, sad, or angry parts because we don’t want to forget. The first time I held them in my arms, a wave of adoration held me in awe. These tiny fingers holding on to mine. Protection key. I just thought; wow, I made this piece of perfection. My daughter turned thirty-five last week. She is still my little girl. My son isn’t far behind, and I am proud of the adults they have become.

The love found in friendship. I met my best friend when I was twelve. She was the first person I trusted enough to be the real me. I love her just as much as any family member. My bestie lives in America, but the miles make no difference. The only other person with that title I met when I was seventeen. We went through a similar experience and shared laughter amidst the pain.

Last, but not least, is the love I have for my pets. My first cat used to go out of the house when I came home from school. I experienced bullying, and I reckon she wanted to make sure I was safe. My first dog opened his eyes when I held him.

A bond we shared throughout his life.

My new dog is the biggest, funniest animal, and I love him to bits.

We don’t remember all of our childhood. I can only remember snippets. Going on holiday, making sandcastles, long talks with my dad, and getting a typewriter for my eighth birthday are examples of mine.

Even as adults, memories are fragile, when each day is much like the last, but love remains to keep us safe.