A friend in Dallas tells me his grandfather used to whisper this into the ears of brides and grooms: “Marriage is like a hot bath. Once you get in it, and used to it, it’s not so hot anymore.” Indeed, one thing you can count on in marriage, even the sexiest and tightest of unions, is that between kids and careers and the junk that clutters the days, it’s hard to sustain hotness and bliss. Despite tepid stretches, showing your love well beyond Valentine’s Day is a sure-fire way to stoke a marriage that can last.

After speaking to hundreds of men and women in various stages of relationships, from newlywed to affairs to golden anniversaries, for my book “Surrendering to Marriage,” I can tell you that partners who are hugged and kissed and hear “I love you” behave better. There’s real power in a soft and unexpected brush of the lips on the forehead of your husband at the dinner table. What wife doesn’t want to be told she looks beautiful?

Many people shared in interviews, with wrenching remorse that they could have saved their marriages by simply paying more attention to the person who slept next to them, night after night. Instead of letting other tasks distract their focus and consume their energy, they see now they neglected to savor and cherish the person they were bound to by a sacred marriage covenant.

We shop for roses and clothes, jewelry and hearts for husbands and wives on Valentine’s Day. Yet the euphoria of opening a small box and unveiling something spangly and expensive is fleeting. Consistently loving behavior, exhibited when you wake up tomorrow, and the rest of the year, is the real prescription for the ongoing health of a marriage, more than any diamond or Italian suit. After years of anniversaries and Valentine’s Days, closets and jewelry boxes become crammed with stuff you forget about, stuff you never wear. Yet you can never receive too much kindness, or too much love.

Benjamin Disraeli said: “We were born for love. It’s the principle of existence and its only end.” But this force at the heart of existence isn’t just handed over to us; we must nurture it, earn it, and surrender to the hard work it takes for love to endure. Long-term love, when properly fed and watered, makes us better, nicer, and stronger.

We love our children wholly and unconditionally, showering them with emotional and physical affection. Over scheduled and overwhelmed, too often we forget to love— even forget to talk to— the most important person in our life, the man or woman who gave us those kids, the foundation of family and dreams for the future. Marriage needs to be fussed over or else it will break. Intimacy takes work.

It was shocking to learn how many couples have sex once or twice a year, or never at all. Some people blamed the lack of sexual play on lack of time; most placed the blame on lack of communication. If you’re not talking, you’re not cuddling. And after years of mutual neglect, too angry to kiss and make up, silent partnerships end up dissipating.

“I see this constantly,” says Washington divorce lawyer Robert Liotta. “Men and women are on parallel tracks— they never come face to face. I mean, they don’t talk at all. They don’t even know what the other person has done in the past week. They literally say good morning and good night and that’s it. This is a disaster for a marriage.”

Disconnected couples charting out divorce agreements have much to teach us on the importance of thawing the deep freeze before someone turns stone-cold and wants out: Ask your spouses about their days. Court them, compliment them, and seduce them. Sex is fat burning and healing and fun. Sex belongs on the top of a To Do list, above “buy juice boxes” and “manicure.” No touching is bad news.

One of the happiest wives I interviewed, married 40 years, had a standing date for sex every Sunday morning. While their children studied the joys of the Lord at religious school, the parents had their own, uninterrupted rapture. This woman also told me that her husband was never the kind of guy who sent surprise bouquets. But he was someone who said, “I love you” every day.

My husband Chuck’s mother died a month ago. His father died in 1994. The first morning he woke up with no parents, I lay next to him, at a loss for words, my head under his chin. Our children, four boys, were laughing at a television cartoon in the next room. One son’s voice boomed with the huskiness of adolescence. I thought of how pure and immense is our love for our offspring, how too soon their soft cheeks will sprout stubble, how one’s life is a finger-snap. I told Chuck that I knew no one could ever love a son like a mother does, but that I loved him a whole lot.

He hugged me hard, and said that hearing he was fully loved at the moment he was feeling the hollowness of being a new orphan meant everything. It’s easy to tell your spouse “I love you,” and it goes a long way. It’s also easy to forget to even exchange a few cordial sentences in the course of a crazy day.

The above article was featured as in a Special to the Washington Post on 2/14/02 and was written by Iris Krasnow.

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