From Whence Flows Love

What builds in a relationship over years or decades and can be lost in an instant?

A stand-up comedy show in Edinburgh is a strange place for me to receive the best compliment my wife has ever given me.  And this was not in private and Daveen was not even talking to me.  She was answering a question asked by a comedian, David Morgan (who I certainly recommend), in front of an audience of thirty people, four of them dear friends.

The comedian was making fun of the fact that few of us feel pretty, and he pointed to Daveen and asked, “Does your husband ever tell you he thinks you’re pretty?”

“Yes,” she said, without much hesitation, though you always want to be a little careful when a comedian is running the show.

“And do you believe him?”

“Absolutely.  When he says something, he means it.”  I don’t think this is the answer the comedian expected because he seemed surprised and his comeback wasn’t as funny as the rest of his show. I didn’t exactly hear it anyway because my mind was stuck on what Daveen had said.

My friend Gary tells me that I don’t take compliments gracefully, and he may be right.  But I fully accept this one.  I was reminded of a moment in the movie “As Good As It Gets,” when Jack Nicholson says to Helen Hunt, in order to persuade her to stay at dinner, “You make me want to be a better man.”

When she replies, “That is the nicest compliment I’ve ever received in my life,” Jack shakes his head and says something like, “Darn.  I just wanted it to be good enough to keep you at dinner.”

Daveen, you will more than keep me at dinner.  But I began to think about how easy it is to lie and say “You look great” because it’s convenient.

When I was growing up I figured that lying was a good bet.  When my father asked me, “Did you practice the piano for an hour today,” I always said, “Yes.”  I only was punished when I was caught, which was a dismal 80% of the time.  But sometimes I got away with, shall we say, a little fiction, though I wasn’t too smart about it.  When my father bought a new tape recorder I taped half an hour of my piano practice, and played it over and over while I read a book.  Not clever.  My dad was a professional musician and at the third playing of my “practice” he noticed from his bedroom the identical mistakes made over and over and in the same order.  From that day forward, my piano practice was supervised.

I thought about this when I started my business, and concluded that I didn’t have a good enough memory to remember everything I told everyone.  So, since I was not equipped to be a successful liar, I decided to tell the truth.  This is an example of how I sometimes make a good decision (tell the truth) for the wrong reason, (I don’t want to get caught).  By now I seldom misrepresent myself, and when I am tempted I feel the hot breath of the sheriff in pursuit.

But as Daveen put it so well, when I say something I mean it.  And yes, Daveen, you sure look great.  In black, in red, and in nothing at all.

The answer to the question I started with is trust.  And from trust flows love. Trust is the glue that binds all successful long term relationships such as the one I’ve been lucky to have with Daveen for all these years.

Next Week:  The age old question of how to find the right person, with a surprising ending.

Alan