What does love look like exactly?

Recently, my 7-year-old son and I were out shopping for mommy's birthday present.  I asked him what we should get, and he said, "Oh, I guess chocolate and flowers . . . stuff like that."  He is getting the hang of it I thought, but today I am thinking again.

What does love look like exactly?  Is it the embrace of two Hollywood stars as the music rises and the cameras rotate around the immaculate couple?

I think it looks like a step-mom getting up at 1 and 4 am every night to check on her husband.
I think it looks like the same woman loving his children and grandchildren as if they were her own.
I think it looks like a meaningful card and kind words.
I think it looks like a twinkle in the eye when planning family visits even if they take away from time she could have spent with her other family.
I think it looks like scrubbing all sorts of bodily fluids out of the carpet.
I think it looks like her being willing to reminisce about her husband's other wife with reverence, openness, and sorrow -- setting aside her own unique journey to enter into ours.
I think it looks like someone willing to work hard providing primary care only to make a quick trip to the funeral home to hold the hand of another grieving grandmother.
I think it looks like someone willing to read the fine print of 6-10 prescription bottles and know things so well that she can even correct doctor's mistakes.
I think it looks like romance created uniquely within a complex story long after the typical age of Hollywood lovers.
I think it looks like traveling all over the country and world to the point of exhaustion just to be with her hyperactive husband.
I think it looks like a kind word even after cancer turns most of us into grumpy old men.
I think it looks like laughs at the silliness of hospital appliances and clothes.
I think it looks like pausing to understand hard news.
I think it looks like tears in the night.

Move over Hollywood,  this is what love looks like.