When I say "I love you"

I say "I love you" quite liberally. I'm sure people think I'm nuts. Sometimes I'm a bit of an over-the-top, larger-than-life kind of person anyway, so it kind of fits my personality, I think. Sometimes I say "I'm in love with you!" or "I just love you!" or some other ridiculous similar thing that my mother would find reprehensible. (Actually, it was my mother who advised me to be like Jesus and love 'em all.)

But it occurred to me this morning that last night, while I was out partying with some co-workers, that I think I said "I love you" to about five of them.

Do people really know what I mean when I say that? Do they just think I'm being silly and ridiculous? Well, they probably do.

Here's the history.

My family was very loving but not particularly affectionate. I didn't know it when I was growing up. I thought our family was the norm. And it very well may have been the norm in our midwestern small blue collar town. My mother used to like to say that the predominant culture roots of the area were German. There was an orderliness and a tidiness to the world. Country roads outlined huge squares of farmland. And we all liked beer.

And, as my mother would add, we shunned physical and verbal affection. We preferred to save it for when it was most sincere, which didn't seem to occur very often. Oh, of course, we'd hug from time to time, but usually just the immediate family, and usually it was a child-parent hug. I rarely saw the couples in my family hug. It did happen, just rarely.

And growing up there were very few people beyond my immediately family to whom I said "I love you." I know they knew I loved them, but we just never said it. It would make us squirm.

A few years ago, my grandmother was dying. I knew it was probably the last conversation I'd ever have with her. She was lying weakly on her pillow, eyes half closed. I decided to tell her for the first time in my life that I loved her. So I said it. "I love you, Grandma," I said. She was silent for a minute, and then she said "Oh, I know." That was the closest she could come to saying she loved me back, and I was totally cool with that.

Anyway, over the years, I've become more affectionate. Life is too short to withhold affection. Liberal use of affection does not indicate a lack of sincerity - not at all. In fact, the more people I sincerely love, the more wonderful life seems to be.

So if you're reading this and if I've told you that I love you, here's what it means:

When I tell you that I love you, it often means I have extreme like for you. It means I want to keep knowing you and probably want know you even better. It means I care for your well-being. It probably means that I have great admiration for you, as well. It means that I think you're a very good person and that you bring great value into my life. And it means that I'm going out on a limb to tell you how much I like you, because life is too short for me to wait around to see if you tell me first.

It doesn't have to mean that I want to have sex with you (but it may, especially if you're Eric). It doesn't have to mean that I will love you forever (unless you're my daughter, or if you're Eric, I hope, I hope, I hope). And it doesn't even mean I like everything about you.

And you don't even have to love me back. But it would be nice if you did.