Expressing Love

One of my daughters got married last weekend on a lovely, sunny day in Louisville, and it was a joyous, celebratory affair. I couldn’t be more delighted with the weekend in general and the ceremony in particular, where it was impossible not to take note of just how well my daughter and her husband articulated their love for each other. Their vows were incredible, describing feelings that I would be hard-pressed to come up with if I were asked why I love my wife of thirty years. We exchanged vows back in 1995, but I’ll be darned if I can remember them now, and I’m pretty she we didn’t even write them. I think we found them in a wedding book somewhere, maybe taking lines from various readings to compile a sort of “greatest hits,” in stark contrast to the personalized masterpieces I heard last weekend.

Even today, while my wife and I say “I love you” regularly, neither of us are all that well-versed in communicating affection. Our relationship is still wonderful and we’re madly in love with each other, but on an average day, the most loving thing I might hear from my wife is “I like your butt.” And honestly, as I ceaselessly approach age 60, I’ll take it!

I think of the characters Tevya and Golde from the musical Fiddler on the Roof. When Tevya asks his wife, “Do you love me?” she responds with a degree of surprise and indignation, “Do I WHAT?” She then gives a laundry list of all the chores she’s done for her husband for the past twenty-five years, before finally concluding by the song’s end, “I suppose I do.” Tevya must have swooned upon hearing that touching line!

My wife and I aren’t that bad, but the reality is that we both came from somewhat emotionally repressed families. Not bad families, but not overly demonstrative. Grudges were had. Silent treatments were plentiful. Distances were built. It was tricky, and for a guy like me who wasn’t overly confident to begin with, navigating the world of dating where articulating affection and tenderness were prerequisites, well, let’s just say my track record wasn’t stellar.

After I met my future wife, saying “I love you” and showing tenderness came more easily, but it was limited to her and her only (and eventually my children). It took many, many years before I felt somewhat comfortable hugging friends. It’s still not my favorite way of saying hello. My father and I haven’t hugged since the 1970s. My brother and I have never hugged. We shake hands. It’s ridiculous, but such is the legacy of our upbringings.

Watching my daughter last weekend – and observing my other two children show their joy and kindness – I get the sense that generation by generation our family is slowly but surely shedding the residue of our stern, German heritage, and embracing something more welcoming, more understanding, more loving and more supportive. I feel like my wife and I took baby steps in that direction, and now our children are taking that baton and running with it to a whole new level of open communication.

Love, Marriage and Divorce

Thirty years ago today my future wife and I spent our first evening together by watching the film Malcolm X on Martin Luther King, Jr. Day, but not before Alice was carded for the rated R movie. Twenty-three years old and a second-year graduate student at the time, Alice fished out her driver’s license with good humor. Afterwards, even after ogling at Denzel Washington for three hours, she was interested enough in me to go out again, and the rest is history. Score one for the little guy. We’re celebrating today by avoiding each other; I’m on the tail end of a bout with COVID.

Just a few years prior to our successful first date, most would likely have put money on neither me nor most of my college buddies from ever finding a woman to marry, much less maintaining a successful marriage for close to thirty years. Somehow most of us beat the odds, and a few even convinced two women to marry them (though not at the same time) – a remarkable feat. That most of my friends have managed to maintain successful marriages led me to wonder about divorce rates today versus the 1970s and 1980s. The narrative I’ve told myself is that divorce was much more prevalent years ago when women were finally given more freedom to flee a marriage that wasn’t up to snuff.

But anecdotally, when looking back to my childhood, I can’t think of any close friends of mine whose parents went through divorce. A few moms were on their second marriages, but none of my friend’s parents split up during our childhoods or – for that matter – since, clearly beating the odds. It could very well be, as I’ve often suspected, that I unintentionally gravitated toward friends who had stable home lives, satisfying some need in me.

According to statistics, divorce rates peaked from 1976-1980, hovering at or over 50%. My parents’ divorce fell into this timeframe. Since then, the rates have dropped. Statistics can vary, but most experts agree that the divorce rate is lower than it’s been in fifty years. However, so is the marriage rate. So who the hell knows?

What I do know is that many of my colleagues and I have been very lucky, but we’ve also probably worked through marital issues in a way that our forebears did not. Paul McCartney’s lyrics from his 1989 song, “We Got Married,” are trite but on point:

It's not just a loving machine
It doesn't work out if you don't work at it

I tried composing something a little less hackneyed for my upcoming album, a song called “It Gets Better.” It didn’t make the cut, but I’m proud of the lyrics, and they sum up how I feel about being in a relationship that’s lasted thirty years: it’s better than ever. My favorite line, “It’s time for you to earn, what you think you deserve.”

Here’s to another thirty, Alice.

IT GETS BETTER (Copyright, Paul Heinz, 2023)

There’s no doubt the initial introduction
Provides all the function of seduction
To leave you riding high undeterred

But in time there’s a matter of transition
And some never temper the affliction
Of wanting things to stay as they were

Life may not go
Just as you planned
But you won’t know what I know
Until you stand where I stand

Love doesn’t grow weaker or meeker or bleaker
Although it’s been years since you met her
It only grows deeper so keep her you need her
Love doesn’t go stale, it gets better
It gets better

It’s been said that emotions lose their vigor
and fires of passion start to flicker
and leave you trembling out in the cold

Sure, we grow old, but love ages like a fine wine
It needs to be nurtured and in good time
It’ll set your beating heart all aglow

Don’t give in to a grim point of view
You will see what I see
If you just see things through

Love doesn’t grow weaker or meeker or bleaker
Since you found the wisdom to wed her
It only grows stronger the longer you long for her
You know she’s your greatest endeavor
It gets better

It takes courage
to handle life’s curves
It’s time for you to earn
What you think you deserve

Love doesn’t grow weaker or meeker or bleaker
So walk down the path where you led her
It only grows deeper so keep her you need her
You know that you’re better together

Love only grows richer and this is the picture
You’ve kept in your heart since you wed her
So never stop trying and strive ‘til you’re thriving
Yes this is your greatest endeavor
It gets better