We have always asked those we meet about how they feel towards others, at least once. “Is there anyone out there you love?” is usually the first question that comes to us when we meet people, or when we are interested to know about others. The first question we ask a child, “Who do you love more your dad or mom? Your brother or sister? Ms. Sarah or Ms. God-knows-who?”
We never, though, ask people who loves them most.
We know how it feels to love. But how does it feel when you are loved? How does it feel when someone out there is actually interested in your well-being? How does it feel to know, for sure, that if one day you don’t wake up, someone will feel about you as Wordsworth, an 18th century poet, felt about Lucy when she died,