terms of endearment

Here is my story as I recorded it with the MOTH radio show on Saturday:

My story is called Terms of Endearment.  It’s actually a collection of four separate short stories that I consolidated under the title Terms of Endearment about how we express love, what words we use, the behavior that endears us to other people. This is my valentine’s special to you. I am fascinated by both the terms and the endearment, and how varied and vibrant they can be.  These four stories are all about my family. They are all true stories.

Terms, rather than endearment

The first vignette focuses more on the terms than the endearment.  In the 1950s, my dad was in his 30s, a confirmed bachelor.  He had a few simple terms for selecting a wife.  She had to be a good driver.  She had to be a good card player. He had to like her family.  A classic bachelor’s list, right?  He did not anticipate how he would wilt under my mother’s gaze when they met for the first time.  So…when my dad married my mother, six months after they met: she didn’t drive; she didn’t play cards; he never met her family until after the wedding.  I’m so tickled that my dad knew when to toss the terms and embrace the endearment.  That’s a good life lesson for everyone—know when to throw out the rules.

Endearing traits

This next anecdote has to do with endearing traits involving items that couples exchange. In this case clothing, the same clothing.  My husband and I can exchange clothing.  I consider this an asset to our marriage and comes in particularly handy with outdoor gear and boots of all varieties—snow boots, barn boots, skates, ski boots, coveralls, extreme weather gear.  I am somewhat loath to tell you that we can actually wear the same pants…and apparently, I am not the only one. 

My husband tells a tale of visiting a sweetheart long ago whose parents were going out to dinner.  As the parents’ car disappeared down the drive, two individuals visited the upstairs.  When the parents returned unexpectedly, much earlier than anticipated, the two individuals quickly threw on their clothes and ran downstairs, pretending that they had never visited the upstairs.  The two individuals were striving for meaningful conversation with the parents, when my husband noticed that he was wearing her bluejeans…and she was wearing his…….Some internal panic ensued.  I do not know whether there was some embroidery or a few stray rhinestones involved, but I like this vision of reversed pants. It all ended well with the parents never the wiser, and is indeed an endearing episode.

Depth of endearment

I’m due for a story about myself.  It’s more about the depth of endearment.  As a builder and physics enthusiast, my husband is very focused on math.  When we met, he had an endearing habit of gauging someone’s interest in something based on a scale of 1 to 10.  One night early in our relationship, his question had to do with the depth of my endearment to him.  He asked, what was the extent of my feelings for him?  The question was quite unexpected. I floundered.  I asked him, coolly, what’s a 1?  He replied, unnoticeable.  I asked, what’s a 10?  He replied, unfathomable.  I experienced some momentary madness, because I answered a 5, playing it safe and all.  His reprisal came….later.

At this time in my life, I felt somewhat diction impaired. I was in a serious mumbling phase.  Getting words out clearly seemed difficult.  On the night when I got up the nerve to say, I think I’m falling in love with you…he said, what? (Knowing clearly what I had said).  I felt a little panicked.  So, I said it again, more clearly.  I think I’m falling in love with you….He said, what did you say?  A third time, I said these words emphatically.  Look, I think I’m falling in love with you! (The warm, tender tone diminished at this point).  He said…yeah, I know, I heard you the first time.  Payback was his, and it was sweet.

Perceptive endearment perspective

Last, is a story from a mother’s perspective.  As a mother, I’ve learned that young children can express their endearment in incredibly perceptive ways.  On a mother’s day when my daughter was not quite four years old, we were playing a word game as we curled up for bed.  We were listing all the ways we loved each other. More than all the Os in the cereal box.  More than all the cherry blossoms on the tree.  More than all the waves on the pond.  More than all the stars in the milky way.

Then, I said, I love you like an elephant, because an elephant never forgets and I will never forget my love for you. She thought about this idea for a long while, and asked whether other animals have good memories.  Our cats?  The chickens? What about the goldfish?  Then, she turned to me and said, mama, I love you like a mother.  I was awestruck.  This was the most powerful love force she could think of, the love of a parent.  Forget the elephant! That kind of love lasts a lifetime, it is unshakable, enduring, and can bring you to your knees at the same time.  And a four year old already knows that.  That’s a life lesson from someone so small…and wise.

Ending

So, what’s my message?  If you feel love in your heart, express it, let those words fly.  It’s empowering, it’s healing, it’s fun, it’s even funny sometimes, as hopefully my stories illustrated.  Of course, if you say them to me, I might say live them live on stage, but I’ll beg your forgiveness afterwards.  What are your terms of endearment, and how can you improve them? Seriously, I think expressing love is one of the greatest gifts we have to give and receive in life.  That’s my secret valentine’s message to all of you.