love language

Trophy. As kids, we all covet them. Some even amassed a whole cabinet full of these gleaming artifacts. And then for some, the line between the trophy and what it represents (ie excellence in something) gets blurred and the trophy becomes the object of desire, not the excellent something.

M asked me last week if one's spouses should be the Best Friend. We chat a bit, especially when I drive her around on Sundays. So we get plenty of captive time to talk about just everything under the sun. My answer was of course, yes; and then went on to pose a more real world scenario, "are you gonna stay with the one who loves you or are you going back to the one you love". If this sounds familiar, it's because I lifted it verbatim from a Glenn Frey song. Of course it's fantastic if the couple are best friends but sometimes that doesn't happen and my question then becomes relevant.

I am fortunate in this aspect. D is not just my Best Friend, she's also my rock. Not in an anchoring sense where she fixes me to a point but in a paperweight sense where she keeps me from floating around carelessly. One example of how she does this is when she introduced me to the different Languages of Love.

Image from Quotesgram.com

Some feel loved when presented with the words. Some prefer gifts. Quality time is important for some. Others like the intimacy of touch. And then there are acts.

Earlier this week, as I cleaned up my computer, I accessed a folder I had not opened for nearly 6 years. It contains correspondences with M, J and D. In fact, most of it for J. And it then hit me that I have been using this particular language with him because as we all know boys are not known to be loquacious, especially with their own dads. So penning down my thoughts was the most pragmatic way of communicating. There are less notes to M. With her, it's more verbal: a twist of the language of words, with a dose of quality time.

That said, the language that really conveys our intentions must be that of action. That's D's language. Yes, I do enjoy her notes to me (she'd write maybe a longish email once a year esp when I am on away for a stretch), but like both M & J, it's her acts that show her love for us.

D is now writing her next chapter after years spent in devotion to taking care of the family. I am indeed lucky. For she is much more than a trophy. She is excellent.