Loving in specifics, not platitudes

I may have mentioned before in this column about my love of true-crime shows and podcasts. I enjoy hearing about the evidence, the motives, the sometimes arbitrary clue that will reveal itself by chance, leading to some top-shelf detective work. All of this, plus the final swift arm of justice that comes down on the perpetrator, are all satisfying parts of these shows. 

But there is one segment that always comes up short for me: the point when a family member or two describe their loved one. It’s become so predictable that I’ve come to let out a long, audible sigh when the sister, the spouse, or best friend tries to sum that person up in a sentence or two: their smile “can light up a room.” People just “want to be around him.” His or her children are the “center of their universe.” These are all very nice qualities, but there remains very little deviation from describing everyone as wonderful, but only in generalities and platitudes.

None of these things are bad; it’s just that when it comes to describing a person, it lacks specificity. Is this the best we can do?

The fun part of the people we love comes wrapped in the little foibles and eccentricities they have. 

And why don’t we name these funny little things our loved ones do? These are the little details about each person that are as varied and as specific as a fingerprint, yet we so rarely put these things into words as a way of expressing our affection for someone.

I’m reminded of a monologue from my all-time favorite movie, When Harry Met Sally. After Harry and Sally have had a major argument, and it seems as though their longtime friendship may finally be falling apart, Harry makes a grand gesture by running through the streets of New York in order to profess his love to Sally at the stroke of midnight:

Well, how about this way? I love that you get cold when it’s seventy one degrees out, I love that it takes you an hour and a half to order a sandwich, I love that you get a little crinkle above your nose when you’re looking at me like I’m nuts, I love that after I spend a day with you I can still smell your perfume on my clothes and I love that you are the last person I want to talk to before I go to sleep at night. And it’s not because I’m lonely, and it’s not because it’s New Year’s Eve. I came here tonight because when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.

This is the kind of detail I crave, not only from tv shows, but real life, too. It’s the little things like a crinkle of a nose or someone’s ardent love for a particular actor or sports team, or their habit of cutting out comic strips from the newspaper and sending them to people with a note that says, “This reminded me of you.”

My husband and I have been together for nearly 30 years, and even though he could easily be described and defined by his career, or his work in the community, or his musicianship, it doesn’t change the fact that I love the way he rubs his hands together when he says, almost once a day, “I have an idea.” (I love that, too — that he seems to effortlessly channel great ideas from the cosmos.) Despite being self-conscious about his slightly crooked teeth, I love that I can get him to laugh so hard that he’ll forget himself, and crack a huge grin. I even love the way he’s not afraid to express an opposing opinion even in polite conversation — even when I’m kicking him under the table because I steer clear of confrontation of all kinds in social situations. He almost always has his sleeves rolled up — which parallels his all-hands-on-deck attitude in life, too. He has this way of hovering over my shoulder whenever I’m about to pull something from the oven — then can barely help himself from sampling it, even if he risks burning his tongue. 

The thing is, he does light up a room. But he’s so much more than that to me. He’s a thousand tiny things, from the way he pronounces my name to the way he always learns the first names of the custodians who work in buildings he frequents. I’m guessing you have someone in your life who does quirky things that you love about them. Notice them. Then, say them out loud. Put the lovable quirks into words, and let the person know they are a part of the fingerprint that person has left on your heart.

---

---