World Needs More Of `Lovelanguage'

I can't recall exactly what my husband had asked me to do in thatconversation some weeks ago - maybe it was to stop writing ondeadline to give him a ride to the Metro or to help him locate somemissing mail. I was deciding on an answer when I realized my8-year-old son was listening.

When my husband asked, "So, are you going to help me out,honey?" Darrell smiled expectantly.

"C'mom, Mom," he said. "You know that `honey' means `please' inlovelanguage."

It's amazing, the gifts kids can give you with theirfresh-out-of-the-box insights.

"Lovelanguage" was such a gift. Of course, love has its ownspecial vocabulary, I thought. So does hate.

In situations such as the one with my husband, do we uselovelanguage primarily to manipulate others to do what we wish? Oris its purpose to remind us that even in our selfishness, ouraffection is paramount?

Darrell's words made me think of language more as an emotionaland visceral system of communicating than as an intellectual andcultural one. And since my husband's "honey" had the desired effect- took me out of myself just enough to feel why it would be good tosay yes - I had to wonder:

"Why don't we use lovelanguage more?"

My early childhood was spent in a household like many in '50sand '60s America, one where lovelanguage was seldom spoken - at leastout loud. "Honeys" and "sweethearts" were rarely exchanged by myparents; I don't know if I ever heard them say, "I love you" to eachother. I don't know if the L-word was just something you didn't tossaround or if my memory's faulty. But my difficulty in recallingspoken endearments makes me think that the language of love was lessverbal.

But I never doubted that I was loved. Affection was verbalizedin our off-the-wall nicknames - my mom called me "Sissy Sue-kins" -and in Christmases far more extravagant than we could afford. It wasannounced in rituals - in home-cooked meals eaten nightly together,in how my mom took me on her rounds as an insurance agent.

Today, lovelanguage is spoken aloud in the homes of mostfamilies I know. Is my generation more verbally affectionate becausethe women's movement somehow freed fathers' once-frozen tongues?Could parental guilt over less time spent with kids make us reinforcelove with words? Maybe it's what we can give our kids that wemissed.

But outside the home, the public use of lovelanguage is becomingrarer. Or maybe we notice it less because pop culture's downwardspiral has made hatelanguage seem more dominant. These days,old-fashioned politeness sounds like lovelanguage to me.

Profanity screeches at us from passing car stereos, at everysporting event or mall. Madonna, frantic over her shrinkingattention-base, hit pay dirt by tossing the F-word at David Letterman13 times. NBC recently apologized for comic Martin Lawrence'sobscene chatter on "Saturday Night Live." Women's magazines nowencourage females to celebrate "the bitch within."

Members of aggrieved groups who spew venom or contempt at theothers get press. Those who use lovelanguage - not "honeys" or"dears" but the vocabulary of conciliation, of understanding - getignored. Rodney King's once-wrenching, "Can't we just get along?"has for some folks become a running joke.

But the more venom and contemptuous rage we express, the moreunlivable the planet feels.

Lovelanguage requires work. It means taking time to say"please" and "I appreciated that." It's dancing a bit to avoidpeople's sore spots.

Lovelanguage isn't easy. But c'mon - even an 8-year-old knowsthat it deserves some respect.