This morning, while I was savoring my morning cup of coffee and watching Sunday Today, Willie Geist had a segment on Cleo Wade – an impressive artist, poet, activist, and author. If you haven’t seen her work, I highly recommend it. She’s pretty amazing. As the segment covered a number of her accomplishments, it quickly splashed a poem of hers across the screen, which quickly caught my eye and reminded me of some “A-ha” reflections I’ve captured over the years:
“Just in case no one told you today – I love you!” - Cleo Wade
I realize that once again, I’m stepping outside of my retired Infantry officer box with an inspirational message about love, but I’m bound and determined to keep you all just a little off balance by breaking stereotypes whenever possible. J Cleo’s quote above highlighted something that I thought every family did naturally. Perhaps a little context will help illustrate the environment I grew up in:
I think it’s fair to say that I grew up in a split emotionally expressive family. My father was the product of a loving but small, traditional, first-generation immigrant German family. They escaped Germany during World War II, coming to America with little money and only my father’s older brother (at 10 years old) with the ability to speak English. This upbringing created a father who was quiet, stoic, and disciplined. I’m sure this was reinforced during his military career and two Vietnam deployments. My mother was his perfect balance. She came from a huge blue-collar, working class family (7 brothers and sisters) where little was private and everything was shared. Along with being a dutiful military souse, she was also a career 3rd grade school teacher and was effusive in sharing her talent for nurturing and developing others. I don’t want to totally throw my father under the bus by giving you the impression that he was an emotionless automaton throughout our life. Once he finally retired (for the second time), he was finally able to break through that tough shell and give both my mother and our family the attention we craved. However, together they provided the perfect balance between discipline/accountability and comfort/love as my brother, sister, and I were growing up.
So what does that have to do with this week’s quote? Whether it was to make up for my father’s strict upbringing or just my mother’s natural generosity in over communicating how much she cared for us, we grew up saying “I love you” rather frequently. Not only did we try to say it our casual conversations, but it “always” was included when saying goodbye – whether in person, on the phone. I recall being surprised by a reaction from a friend during middle school when he overheard us one day. He found it funny and I remember being embarrassed by the situation (I’m sure you can recall those awkward teen years and vulnerable egos). Anyway, after that happened, my brother and I started substituting “You know…” to each other – as our elementary code for “You know I love you” to avoid similar uncomfortable public situations in the future. Silly right? I don’t remember how long that code lasted (maybe through high school?), but it still makes me smile when I think of it.
Fast forward to me raising my family. I wanted love to be abundant in our everyday life - be it frequent hugs, generous acts, or expressions of love. I didn’t want my children growing up thinking that love is a finite resource that must be carefully doled out to ensure we never run out. I never wanted them to question, doubt, or wonder how I felt. I wanted the physical and verbal expression of this powerful emotion to come naturally. I want to believe that my wife, Danielle, and I have been successful in creating this expressive and loving environment for Campbell and Tucker. And that my larger circle of family and friends feel this genuineness as well.
Will it sometimes lead to embarrassment? Sure – like the late night call I placed to my boss, COL Joe Buche, during my last operational assignment with The Old Guard. There had been some type of incident in the regiment that required me as the Executive Office to gather all of the relevant information, address all of the innumerable details, and then brief my commander. It was probably early morning, like 3am, by the time I had handled the situation and called COL Buche to share the information and keep him in the loop. After agreeing to attend to some issues based on his insightful, follow-up questions, right before hanging up and in my half-awake half-asleep condition, I said “I love you” right before hanging up. As you can imagine, realizing that that natural familial phone call ending had just happened, I was immediately wide awake. Did I just tell my military boss that I loved him? You bet I did… Yikes! The following day at work, COL Buche pulled me to the side and, with a smile, said that he didn’t realize we were ready to take our relationship to the next level. But instead of embarrassing me further, he seriously said that it was a shame we all weren’t more comfortable with that type of language. He continued sharing its irony, given how much we truly care about our Soldiers – willing to die for them on the battlefield, but too often being overly self-conscious about expressing it.
Throughout my military career and deployments, I’ve seen and experienced a lot of death. I lost both of my parents last year – much too early. These soul-wrenching events never get easier, but they do sometimes help you reflect upon your core life priorities. They continue to confirm my perspective that every day we have on this great earth is a gift, never truly know what tomorrow may bring. I’ve learned not to take life for granted or to leave matters of the heart left unsaid. I think our society has put too much pressure on these three little words. It reminds me of one of my favorite quotes: “I didn’t say I love you to hear it back. I said it to make sure you knew.”
Yes, saying “I love you” is indeed powerful. But that doesn’t mean that these three little words always have to be used strategically for fear that their overuse might dilute their meaningfulness. I think our world would be a better place with a little more love. So my advice this week is to be a little brave and accept a little vulnerability. I’m sure there is someone out there that “knows” that you love them, but would love to hear that phrase a little more frequently. Spread some of that love my friends. I promise it won’t run out. When is the last time you told people within your personal sphere of influence that you love them?
Comments