Love By the Numbers by Laura J. Oliver

Of all the things I was taught as a child, “homemade is better than storebought,” “Daddy-Longlegs don’t bite,” the most useful was probably, “anything you want to know you can find out at the library.” Only now, “library” is “internet.” And guess what you can find out there? There’s a website called, “See Your Folks” that will calculate the remaining number of times you are likely to see your parents before they die.

Since my parents are dead, I’ve been sitting at my desk in my pearl-gray, sunblasted office this morning, squinting at the computer screen, using this website to see how many times my children are going to see me before I die. Or, how many more times I’m likely to see them. I know the answer without doing the math, however.

Not enough.

The website uses World Health Organization data and asks that you answer a few questions to help them make their determination. The idea behind the site is that reminding us that our time together is finite, makes us more inclined to use time well in the present. Their research shows that this exercise actually makes us more compassionate, and therefore happier and healthier.

I’m trying this on for size and I’m not feeling it. In fact, this revelation makes me needy and sad. No matter how big the number is, there will be a last time for each of them. Pulling out of a gravel driveway, a one-armed hug goodbye at Christmas– a bag of opened gifts in the other hand– slipping quietly from a hospital room. I stare at that number and my heart breaks.

So according to “See Your Folks” I will see my daughter who lives in England, the working mother of two rambunctious boys, 9.5 more times before I die. I’ll see my song-writing daughter in D.C., the girl who rode a bicycle from California to Maryland in 52 days, outpacing wild dog packs in Missouri and flying insects the size of Snickers bars in Kentucky, 47 more times in this life. And my son, who lives across town, devoted husband and father, whose talent and integrity I can only aspire to, I’ll see 228 more times before I leave the world.

Does that sound skimpy to you?

It does to me. So, I’m looking for a number that will seem reasonable. And another way to think about this.

When my youngest wanted to delay bedtime, she would routinely challenge the depths of my affection. “I love you more than you love me,” she’d say, searching her second- grade experience for the greatest comparison she could offer as proof. “I love you as much as every star that shines, ever will shine, in this galaxy and all the other galaxies in the universe. Or any other universe. Forever.

“Now,” she’d conclude in a business-like manner. “How much do you love me?”

I’m not a math person, I’m a word person so I’d have prepared. I’d have gone on the internet to find the biggest number in the world. And I’ll resort to it now.

How much do I love you? How many more times would I like to be in your presence?
Infinity + 1. That sounds about right to me.

In my memory, my last-born waits for me to quantify my affection. She gazes at me expectantly with eyes so clear I can see myself mirrored there.

But sometimes words fail me. And sometimes, love speaks for itself.

Laura J. Oliver is an award-winning developmental book editor and writing coach, who has taught writing at the University of Maryland and St. John’s College. She is the author of The Story Within (Penguin Random House). Co-creator of The Writing Intensive at St. John’s College, she is the recipient of a Maryland State Arts Council Individual Artist Award in Fiction, an Anne Arundel County Arts Council Literary Arts Award winner, a two-time Glimmer Train Short Fiction finalist, and her work has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize. Her website can be found here.