She Can Be Scary

Halloween 2020

Another love letter to Liza

Me:     “Do you know what I love about you, Liza?”

Liza:    “Ooh, I can’t wait to hear it!” 

Me:     “Well, I love almost everything about you, but what I am thinking of today is that you can be downright scary.”

Before going any further, let us clarify that “scary” is not just about ghosts and goblins on Halloween, or to describe what the president is tweeting today.  “Scary” is on a list of words and phrases with multiple and often contradictory meanings.  For example:

• “Wicked” is defined as horrific or evil, but in common high school parlance, it is often just the opposite, with a touch of the unbelievable.  “That three-point shot was wicked.”    
• “Dope” can refer to a controlled substance; but out on the Quad, it is high praise.  “Oh, show me that move again; it was really dope.”
• “Shut up” usually means zip your lip, but my daughter and her friends use it  as an interjection to describe greatness.  When her friend Molly told me to “Shut up” as I was offering her some chip and dip, Molly was not rudely telling me to be quiet.  The reference was to my sublime “shut-up guacamole.”  It had left her otherwise speechless.

Likewise, my love, when I say you are “scary,” it does not convey fear.  It conveys an extreme of feeling or affection.  For example:

• You are “scary” smart.  When we encourage each other with the L.A. Times Crossword, the Sudoku, or the Jumble; your left-brained and analytical mind dazzles me.  When we discuss politics or baseball or last Sunday’s Zoom sermon, your questions and your reasonings are most insightful. 
• You are “scary” beautiful.  From the time we met at a football game more than fifty years ago, right down to this morning at the breakfast table, you are still the pretty one.  I love it that you still stir the “hubba-hubba” within my heart. 
• You are “scary” generous and helpful.  You nurtured my mom in her dotage.  You are always thinking of our nonagenarian neighbor.  You take cookies to the college boys down the street.  You spend the time and the energy to edit my blogs, making them better.  You fill in the gaps for me by keeping the calendar, the paperwork, and the checkbook. 
• Finally, you are a “scary” wonderful gramma.  Clarky is five-and-a-half; you love to monitor his kindergarten zoom class.  Calvin is two-and-a-half; the two of you do the farm puzzle.  Davey is fourteen months; you read the board books and make the animal sounds with him.                      

In brief, Liza, you are frighteningly good, and the good thing about your “scariness” is that it is not confined to October 31^st.  Your intelligence, your beauty, your generosity and your grammahood are in evidence 365 days of the year.  On Halloween and every other day…

You are my Boo!