When Shannon and I were first married we made a pact that we would not go to sleep mad at one another. Young lovers do things like that—make covenants they have no idea how hard they are to keep, but bye and large we have done it.
It doesn’t happen often, but I can say or do some things that are pretty insensitive. Sometimes I say something so monumentally asinine, I need only the IQ of a cucumber to realize I have forfeited the match. No matter how right your position, “I’m sorry” is the best and only response. And maybe a foot- rub. Yes, with the scented oil. Or roses.
No, I’m talking about the slow burning ember. Those can lie just under the surface and spark up weeks later in a discussion over whether to have romaine or arugula in the salad. Early in our marriage I learned that if I wanted to honor my commitment and get some sleep, I needed a way to tease those embers out into the open. So, I honed my talent for sensing when something isn’t quite right in the fabric that is holding two people together—lovers, coworkers or parents and children. For the family I have a special tool: I love you.
Those three words are like a miners gold pan. Now don’t misjudge my intent—If I say those words I mean them; but I’ve discovered a person’s response is telling. I can reveal little nuggets of hidden truth in their reply. A sensitive and discerning ear can hear so many things. Anger. Fear. Uncertainty. Loneliness. Despair. Affection. Resolution. Reconciliation. Love.
By dent of this utterance, I’ve done my part for domestic harmony.
So, Shannon and I end most every parting with “I love you”, (unless we’re at Wal-Mart and I’m going to check out the hygiene section). It is not a throw-away, it affirms that our bond is secure while we are apart and we will refresh that bond soon. Even a short phone call, “I’m on the 4:30 ferry. Love you. Bye”has the power to afirm and connect.
I admit for a long time, I feared I would end a call with someone, not my wife, with an “ok, love you, bye.” You have to guard it becoming a rote habit; habits have a way of assuming their own life.
I admit for a long time, I feared I would end a call with someone, not my wife, with an “ok, love you, bye.” You have to guard it becoming a rote habit; habits have a way of assuming their own life.
“Ok, Tim, our meeting with the City is set for next Tuesday.”
“So you can get the evaluation matrices ready?”
“Sure, I have two started.”
“Alright, see you tomorrow”
Ok. Loveyoubye.”
“....Uh, what’s that?”
“Huh? Oh, I said ‘wear a tie.’ You know how the city is?”
“Uh. Yeah.”
True story. Glad that’s behind me. But I still say it.
Whenever I part with Nolan or Rayna it’s the same, I say those words. It’s been kind of fun to see them reply without appearing to hurt their teenage independence. It is very much a meaningful statement of my feelings for them; and it is a probe to test their emotional state. I love you, also asks “how we doin’?”
Recently, I texted Nolan about something or other. He’d had a week that he was glad to have behind him. I closed with the test:
“…ok, we will call you tomorrow about coming up to visit. Have fun tonight. Love you, Dad.”
“haha, you bet. We should go to the Mongolian grill.”
“love you too.”
Love you, too. It told me everything. An unfinished thought that he didn’t want to pass unsaid. It said we were doing good. It said he was doing good.
We’re getting the hang of this.
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