Romance is a funny beast. The etymology of the word is that it comes from the Middle English word, romauns, from Anglo-French romanz French, narrative in French, from Medieval Latin Romanice in a vernacular (as opposed to Latin), from Late Latin Romanus Gallo-Romance speaker (as opposed to a Frank), from Latin, Roman. That’s the definition according to Merriam-Webster anyway.
The Cambridge Advanced Learner’s Dictionary; Love 101: To Love Oneself Is the Beginning of a Lifelong Romance (The Life 101 Series) by Peter McWilliams claims that romance is a celebration of life often through art, music and the attempt to express love with words or deeds.
Last week, I had another birthday. Now birthdays don’t bother me when they are my own. They don’t depress me or impress me or otherwise press me. My birthday acknowledges that I’ve successfully made it around the sun one more time and if I can do it once, I can probably do it again. At this point, I’ve done it more than once and so I can claim with some authority that I am an expert in the field of getting older.
My 13-year-old son has always had a bit of a romantic bent to him that others have overlooked. You see, romance isn’t necessarily what is said but rather, how it’s said. What others do not always identify as romantic speak usually harbours the most precious nuggets of love one could ever hope to find.
Ten years ago, Lewis began to couple together images and words to create what he believed to be unique utterances that underscored his love for others. Ah yes! His first attempt at romance when he was 3 was to turn to me one evening at sunset and with his eyes dancing with the excitement of his first romantic expression, said, “Mommy, your eyes are red shining bright like the sun setting over the desert.”
All right, it’s not the best compliment a woman would want to hear but when you’re a parent, these sorts of expressions of love are both humourous and cherished. I suppose I was overtired the day he spoke those words and perhaps my eyes were bloodshot from having worn my contact lenses a few hours longer than recommended by the American Association of Opthamology, but truth be told, I thought the sentiment was lovely all things considered.
Over the past decade, I have heard many interesting compliments come my way thanks to Lewis and his amazing brain. Some have been more complimentary than others. Some have been more successful in touching my heart than others. Some have been lost on me completely and yet others have been so humourous that I have forced myself to endure great fits of pain holding back gales of laughter.
Last week, Lewis wrote and recited a special poem he had written on the occasion of my birthday. He very seriously called me aside at one point in the day and in his most scholarly look possible announced he had written a poem for me in honour of my advanced age. He squared his shoulders and with a broad smile, he allowed the words to flow with great enthusiasm and love.
“Roses are eff eff zero zero one one
Not zero zero one zero or zero zero one two.
This is my technological way of saying
It’s your birthday, Mom, and I love you.”
For those of you who aren’t familiar with #ff0011, I can assure you that it is a most amazing hexadecimal colour code hue for a rose. However, only a computer geek would be able to tell you that without a moment’s hesitation.
And so, with great pride, I thanked my son for having written and recited such a wonderful poem for my birthday.
I should have expected that someday he would write such a poem. After all, years ago when he was a toddler, I taught him that the proper response to “I love you” is “thank you.” It’s only fitting that with such a beautiful poem for my birthday that embodies the spirit of romance that I would say thank you to Lewis for his gift.
And so I did and I will always remember the beauty of his latest computer geek expression of love towards his mother.
Elyse Bruce
Founder and Creator
MIDNIGHT IN CHICAGO

October 6, 2008 at 11:28 pm
[...] midnightinchicago wrote an interesting post today onHere’s a quick excerptI should have expected that someday he would write such a bpoem/b. After all, years ago when he was a toddler, I taught him that the proper response to “I blove/b you” is “thank you.” It’s only fitting that with such a beautiful bpoem/b for my b…/b [...]
October 7, 2008 at 12:11 pm
Oh! Elyse! Thank you for this. It started my day with joy. What a great story.