Extravagant

This month in Book Club we discussed the book Gilead by Marilynne Robinson. It was a bit of a slow read at first but I loved it by the end and think I may very well re-read it to soak up a little bit more of its richness. On page 238 there is this tremendous paragraph, a paragraph of love, extravagant love, of the lengths to which we will go for love and forgiveness, the lengths and depths we don't have but will extend beyond for our child. I love the notion of how extravagant this is. From Gilead:

And old Boughton, if he could stand up out of his chair, out of his decrepitude and crankiness and sorrow and limitation, would abandon all those handsome children of his, mild and confident as they are, and follow after that one son whom he has never known, whom he has favored as one does a wound, and he would protect him as a father cannot, defend him with a strength he does not have, sustain him with a bounty beyond any resource he could never dream of having. If Boughton could be himself, he would utterly pardon every transgression, past, present, and to come, whether or not it was a transgression in fact or his to pardon. He would be that extravagant. That is a thing I would love to see.