PS I Love You

My wife is from Spain, she shares growing up stories with me that are so different than my own.  We also sometimes stumble on interesting cultural disparities that, when looked at more deliberately, renders something worthy of discussion.

  The pivotal point here is when she observed that we Americans often end our phone conversations with ‘I love you’ with family. She asked “Why, do you say that so often? Don’t you already know that?”  I told her, yes but sometimes we say that under the possibility that the conversation may be the last time we talk with them; that it would be comforting to know we conveyed our love.  She acknowledged that was a very sweet sentiment, but that she didn’t seem to believe people actually put much, if any, meaning behind saying that.  She sensed that it had lost its power, and became a substitute for just ending a conversation on a good note.

  I recognized her point of view as being more common than I would like to admit.  I’ve read of situations where some men brought flowers home on Friday nights like clockwork.  Initially the wife was thrilled, then soon learned it was just a personal ritual.  Where the first blush of believing he was thinking of her turned into a habit absent of any real endearing intent, and just something he did because someone told him that was what he should do when he was married. 

  It developed in my mind that saying “I love you” often does not have nearly the impact as being uttered by a lover occasionally.  Now I’m not proposing to stop saying I love you as a solution to the de-valuing of the term, but rather this.  Cherish the expression as an authentic singular emotional expression. Something where “I love (noun)” can obscure the meaning so much we can’t tell what that really means?  Where the notion was a proclamation as something sincerely dear, turns into something that has to be figured out as residing between loving cakes, kittens and/or gardening.

   Not too long ago I read an article in which the author suggested something men could do to convey their love to their wives.  It was unusually simple and insanely creative. It was to have lunch with them during the work week. The giving of his time was far greater than a truck load of roses.  Why?  Because the wife knew how precious his working time was. When he would put all of that on hold to spend an hour in the middle of his busy schedule with his sweetheart, well he instantly reclaimed the lover of all time in her eyes.  Is that precious? A single hour?

  What made it valuable was the intent. He had to make an effort, and it had to be sincere and authentic.  We know authentic when we get it as sure as we can identify the smell of oranges in our presence.  Just as surely, we can also tell when ‘I love you’ is contrived.