That's Amore!

Hello Lovelies!

Ah, February! The month of amore, liebe, aimer...and in jolly, old English, LOVE. So for the next two weeks I will talk about all things love.

As we know, Love (and I capitalize it on purpose) is a multifaceted, complex thing in and of itself. Song lyrics such as "Love is a many splendored thing," or "What is this thing called Love?" describe Love as a big, weird THING. A mystery. A shapeless, amoeba-like "thing" that seems to permeate our souls to the core and drive us crazy. We are hard wired for Love (most of us, anyway) and this elusive "thing" has kept our species going for quite some time already.

For my first post on Love, I thought I would get uncharacteristically personal and tell y'all about how I met my husband, Steve. For our story is about how love and romance are often misunderstood. Let's face it, women crave romance just as men crave sex. This, I believe, has led to many of the issues that come between couples these days.

Anyway, on with the story! About eleven years ago I was a divorced, single mom venturing out on a new career as an English teacher. Fortunately, I was hired at a terrific middle school in Tarzana, California. As I was a new teacher, I was nervous, anxious and every other adjective for "scared silly" as to how to do my job. One day in early October, about a month into my first semester, I was about to go into the copy room when I heard someone call out my name, "Ms Stone!" (Stone was my former last name.)

I turned around and there was Mr. Thatt, one of the school deans, whom I had never met before. "I want to talk to you about one of your students," he said. He was referring to a student who had said the "F" word in my class recently. I had written a note to the dean's office about the matter. He told me how he had called the boy's father and worked out the matter. He was very professional and said he would be glad to help me, knowing that I was a new teacher. He explained that before he became a dean, he had been in the classroom as an English teacher for fifteen years and was an expert at classroom management. Yes, people, he was strutting his proverbial peacock feathers...

What I remember most about our first meeting outside the copy room was how attentive and helpful he was. Also, our school was known for its beautiful rose bushes, which just happened to be in full bloom right outside that same copy room. So I will always associate our first meeting with those wonderful roses.

Fast forward a few months. Mr. Thatt had "visited" my room on several occasions just to see how I was doing. It was his way of watching out for me, and letting the students feel his presence so they would behave in my class. But middle schoolers being middle schoolers, they figured out pretty quickly what was really going on. They said, "Look at Ms. Stone -- she's blushing!" One very sweet girl asked aloud, "Ms. Stone, has Mr. Thatt taken you for ice cream yet?"

By December we were on our first date. And here was the truly romantic part: on a piece of ruled yellow paper, he had hand written out various English lessons for me in case I was ever in a bind. The list included, "Vocabulary Activities, Transormational Grammar Activities, Syntax Activities, Paragraph Activities and Literature Activities." Neat and precise, this list was a life saver during that first treacherous year as a new teacher.

I still have the list. I keep it in a sheet protector so it won't get messed up. I don't need to refer to it anymore, but it is in my briefcase as my good luck charm whenever I work. It is right beside my computer now as I type this story. No, it is neither love letter nor a dozen roses, but it was Steve's way of showing affection and how much he cared. Knowing my husband as I do now, he is not romantic in the way many women wish their mates to be. He shows love most often through being helpful.

Love and romance is often a matter of balance. We need to ask for what we really want and appreciate what we get. Steve knows how much I adore flowers and gifts; and I know that when he does a chore for me, that spells "Love." A glass of fine wine along with a gourmet meal now and then doesn't hurt, either!

Ciao!