Boy oh boy, talk about being overworked, the word
“love” really takes the cake.
I can’t think of another word that’s so busy except maybe
the word “I.”
The Eskimos don’t overwork the word snow. They have
different words for different kinds of snow.
aput: snow on the ground
gana: falling snow
piqsirpoq: drifting snow
nutaryuk: fresh snow
kanevvluk: fine snow
uimuqsuq: snowdrift
How come we use only one word for different kinds
of love?
After all loving pizza and loving your children, loving
your purple sweater and loving your husband, loving
your dog and loving your parents, loving Joni Mitchell,
loving yoga and loving to be in love are all different
kinds of love.
Look all love has to do in The Great America Songbook.
It has to Love New York in June, Paris in the Springtime,
say Hello to Young Lovers, Love Porgy, make sure Our
Love is Here to Stay, and Love Me or Leave me.
Who would these musical icons be without love songs?
Pat Boone and Yoko Ono?
Go for a drive and signs outside houses of worship say
“Love Thy Neighbor.” I only know one of my neighbors.
I like him but his wife wouldn’t like it if I loved him.
Everybody wants love in their life. Too bad anybody
or anything you love sooner or later can drive you crazy.
Like husbands. Husbands have habits. Mine–it’s a
long list. Case study: No matter where he eats, he takes
out a toothpick at the table after he eats and picks.
Like children. Children grow up and change. They’re no
longer adorable. Enough said.
Like your dog. It’s still adorable but often poops in the
house and farts.
I always hoped that at least one of the high school boys
I was madly in love with would turn out to be a little like
Clark Gable, Cary Grant, or Gary Cooper.
Clark, Cary, and Gary didn’t get acne and boners.
Love changes in a marriage as time passes.
Lust goes. Just like my waistline.
Hopefully, what takes its place is companionship, understanding, and trust.
A fair trade? Maybe more so for a woman than for a
man.
I once asked Nora Ephron, a terrific woman, who was
happily in love with her 3rd husband, what the secret of
a happy marriage was. She said “Marry an Italian.”
Mother love changes, too. We can’t kiss our children’s
boo boos away anymore. They cut the umbilical cord
we cling to.
Our kids no longer think we know everything. They think they know everything.
They become people who surprise us in good and not so good ways.
The older we get, the more our children become our
parents. We learn to love them differently.
How long has it been since your kid held out their
arms as wide as they could go and said:
“I love you this much, mommy.”
How I’d love to hear that again.
You’re just a button click away and I’d love
to hear from you.
About your world, your family, your joys
and 
frustrations, growing up, growing older, even recipes– even though I stopped cooking–by request–years ago.
Goodbye until next time…
Hope your day turns out as well as I hope(but doubt) mine will,
Gingy (Ilene)
Loved reading this. Such an interesting and enjoyable viewpoint to read. As always, I love and very much appreciate the humor and yet, reality, behind your posts. LOL at the pictures and captions at the bottom. Cannot wait to read next month’s already! These posts always bring me so much joy during this time!
Such a lovely post, per usual. 🙂
Love is a word…a term. Feelings are not. Being in love, truly in love, is a rarity. I’m lucky, I’ve been in love with someone for 64 years ( I hope my husband doesn’t find out- his joke). I love these blogs…. You are so clever,.
Ilene,
Another delightful read. (Why do I think Ed is about to lecture you about agape, eros, etc.?) I married an Italian/Irish guy. He had a temper as big as the Ritz and a
drinking habit to match. He was, however, and remains (in sobriety) the best loved of my three ex-husbands.
The word love strikes me much like the word God – too big for one word but needing a handle of some sort just to frame the discussion.
Be safe.
Cindy
I think this is great…I think the word Love, like the word Hero, is over and misused.
Be that said,
I LOVE YOU. !!!!!!!!
——————-
When my grandson now 30 was about 7..I was walking down the street with him
holding hands. I asked him.
“Will you still hold my hand when you are in college?”
He quickly replied “Of Course.”
a ,imute later he added…”Except Not if I go to college in California.”
Yes, one word for love doesn’t make sense at all. I never would have thought of that….I love your attitude and your quirky sense of humor and point of view.
Darling Gingy, I LOVE you THIS much!!! (arms extended)
Love your musings.
XX Mir
Well, Gingy, you’ve got another spot on column as evidenced by all the great comments here so I will devolve into this one thought…Clark, Gary and Cary…pretty sure they DID get boners. LOL [pretty sure I may regret posting this]
Ilene…you are really wonderful…and so is your humor! I will not say that “I love” this blog…but I sure do enjoy it a whole lot, especially this time! Thank you so very much for the laughs. Nancy
Another gem! You seem to have the ability to climb inside my head and my heart and put into words what you find there….what we share.
“How long has it been since your kid held out their
arms as wide as they could go and said:
“I love you this much, mommy.”
How I’d love to hear that again.”
I was just thinking this same thought….accepting that it’s my little grandson’s arms I can grateful for right now….but he’ll grow up too soon …and real-life just isn’t a Hallmark movie.
When this pandemic is over, I will stretch my arms out wide as they can go and say “I love you this much Gingy.”
This is another fabulous, mind tickling column. My husband tells me he loves me more now than ever before. I think it’s because I finally learned to cook during this Pandemic. I usually do the dishes too. I laugh at his jokes and tell him “Good one!” when he gets a Jeopardy answer right. I think we found the formula for a good love story. I love YOU, Gingy.
All so very, very true.
The Inuit have dozens of words for snow(you know more of them than I do) but I know of 4 different kinds of “love.” They all have Greek names and you mention some of the different kinds in this month’s blog. But, like you, I think there are many more kinds of love. WE all overuse the word “love” so much. There should be more real love–and less hate–in the world.
Yes, Love, like life, is complicated. Without love, in its many forms, life would not be worth living!
As always, you hit the spot!! So delightful and heart warming to read your column.
Speaking of love, whatever it means, I was married on February 19, 1966.
So what anniversary will this be?
My husband and I have played an Anniversary game since our first year of marriage. On the 19th of Every Month, whoever says Happy Anniversary first, gets a gift. So much fun! Ask me how many times I have won. Less than the fingers on my right hand. My husband has never forgotten and he designs various sly ways to win!
I hope thats love!!
Because of this horror show pandemic, it is with great difficulty that I can hold my kids and grandkids. Praying for the end so we can get back to the hugs and kisses even if we appreciate it more than they do.
Wishing you a healthy and joy filled new year.
Roberta Rosenthal
Always fun to read! Keep at it!