Margaret Atwood once noted, “The Eskimo has fifty-two names for snow because it is so important to them; there ought to be as many for love.” I believe there is only one name for love because it is that important—it transcends all horrors, heals all wounds.  Love is conceivably the biggest paradox of the universe.  When we attempt to measure love with words or objects or money, we diminish its magnitude.  Yet when we share love, it magnifies. I have spent most of my life trying to feel love, it turns out you actually have to feel anything to feel…