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Tiny Love Stories: ‘I Never Saw My Parents Kiss’

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nytimes.com

Blinking With Love Growing up in the ’50s, I never saw my parents kiss, hug or say “I love you.” Instead, their marriage, like my childhood, was steeped in sarcasm and silence.

After my father’s winter death, my mother asked for a copy of their answering machine messages — still blinking from when he was alive.

Copying the original tape, I overheard them whispering: “Sweetie,” “Darling,” “Dear.” Their promises interspersed with kisses, smacking the air.

Their longest message contained the memory of them necking in the back seat of their old white Pontiac Bonneville, their love fogging the windows. — Margaret Mariam Rosenthal Why Not?

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