Tell Her You Love Her

In a marriage or any intimate relationship, silence is not golden. The strong silent type need not apply for the position of husband, lover, confidante, best friend, caregiver, and supporter of a woman with breast cancer. Your bride, your wife, your partner needs and wants to hear from you. Actions may speak louder than words, and you may take all the right actions, but speaking words brings comfort, reassurance, and knowledge of your inner feelings. She cannot read your mind. Being there for her is more than physical or economic security. Words have meaning. And the three most important words in the English language at this time, at this moment, when together you face her mortality, are: “I love you.”

The late Louise Crisafi, a saint here on Earth, always giving of herself for others in need, taught me this lesson on the Friday when Shirley had her biopsy, and was diagnosed. Having opted for the then new two-step process, this meant we knew on Friday that she would have her mastectomy on Monday, giving us a weekend together: scared, anxious, fearful, and sad. For Shirley, confronting death and permanent loss of part of her womanhood. For me, just at a loss and floundering, not knowing what to do or what to say.

Louise was an American Cancer Society Reach to Recovery volunteer, as well as a Greenwich YWCA Encore volunteer leader, devoted to helping other women facing breast cancer treatment. She was a friend and confidante. When I asked Louise what to do feeling as helpless and overwhelmed as I was, she said simply: “Tell her you love her.” I was off to the races. I spent the weekend saying those magic, powerful words over and over, as frequently as possible, perhaps more than I had done in weeks, months or years previously.

A year or so later, a Connecticut News 12 talk show featured three women at various stages of treatment and living with breast cancer, including Louise. Shirley reminisced about how verbal I had become that fateful first weekend. My simple words brought comfort and made a difference. Please, say: “I love you.” It works. I hope I do so as much today 35 years later.

Excerpt from Prayer, Laughter, & Broccoli

Copyright © 2003 Witty Fools Productions Peter Flierl Copyright © 2018 Peter Flierl Revised & Reprinted All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the publisher. Printed in the United States of America. For information on speaking engagements or purchasing bulk copies, email broccolisoupllc@gmail.com