How Love Works Best

By giving back what we ourselves need to get.

Harry Hogg
ILLUMINATION
4 min readJun 15, 2024

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Image: Jenny Hogg — Mum’s last visit to San Francisco

I am me. I am an individual. I am made up of men who lived long before and who I have never met. I am one of the men who was strong, intelligent, opinionated, caring, supportive, and loving. I will be among future men who are similar but in very different ways. I will live forever in the minds of people long after I die.

I am here to accomplish many tasks. Helping, healing, and loving in whatever form possible. Trying to set wrong right again. Trying to imitate the examples given to me by my parents. Taking what they did right and expanding on it.

We never truly know how much someone or something means to us until it or they are no longer there. We can no longer have conversations, play games or embrace each other when needed. We no longer have a support beam to hold us up. We must be strong. We have to be strong for ourselves as well as for others.

Dad was the most dominant man in my life. Most of my childhood memories come from his house. I was the centre of his attention, which was how I liked it. Mum, on the other hand, would have the nerve to invite outsiders into Dad’s house.

What was she thinking?

I could not understand why Mum would allow other children to come in. I felt betrayed, and I wanted the whole situation to disappear. I talked to Mum often about this until it got back to Dad. She broke my trust at a very young age. I didn’t like to share their love with other kids.

I don’t remember what it was I told her, but I can remember how horrible and upset I felt.

How does a kid tell his parents they are the centre of his world and they are his own? I got the normal talk of how my mother did not love me any less. Even though her words said this, her actions were quite different. She started spending more and more time inviting other children to come play with me. What the hell? There were many kids I did not enjoy in Dad’s house.

Mum was letting them tell me what to do.

I had lost Grace. After the adoption, Grace disappeared from my life.

Even though I did not like what Mum was doing, I could not get over my fear of losing her too. I did everything in my power to make her realise I must be the centre of her attention, and I have to say it did work until I was about nine years old.

Then I found out Mum loved other kids as well.

I did not fully understand what she meant to me until she shared her love with others. I picked beautiful flowers to tell her everything was not going okay.

No, everything is not okay, but it is getting better.

But today, I am trying to live up to her morals, the goals she had for me, and the goals I have for myself. I want to make her happy by loving all, not just myself. I want people to love and respect me like everyone loved and respected her. I want to leave imprints on someone else’s life. I want to be the support beam that holds everything up. I want to be the best that I know how because Mum inspired me to do so.

I will never forget how she made me feel important, valuable, intelligent, and well-liked. Mum is no longer physically with us; more importantly, she is in me. I keep her spirit alive. I will pass on her knowledge and personality to my grandchildren. I will tell them of the caring person that she was, and in my heart, she will always be there.

Thank you, Mum.

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Harry Hogg
ILLUMINATION

Ex Greenpeace, writing since a teenager. Will be writing ‘Lori Tales’ exclusively for JK Talla Publishing in the Spring of 2025