Why have we forsaken our darlings?

Whatever happened to "darling," a friend wondered. His parents always called each other "darling," but he never hears the word anymore and thought it was a 1950s thing that went out of fashion with fedoras and fur stoles.

Actually, I don't remember my own parents, who were of the same vintage, using "darling." They were more the "pumpkin" and "snooks" type.

Looking through the current offering of Valentine cards, I didn't see a single "darling." No "cupcake," no "pookie" no "sugar baby." A few cards said "sweetheart" and there was one "honey bunny."

And thankfully, no "dear," which is fine with me because "dear" has been too long abused by strangers as a presumed intimacy, usually by a person serving your eggs or finding your shoe size. Sometimes they'll even call you "dearie," which is even worse than "ma'am."

"Darling," however, does seem worth preserving. It sounds like a grown-up endearment, something that goes with long-term love that's prevailed past a few bumps. It's full-bodied, like a cabernet. And when you need to you can sharpen it and use it as a barb, just by giving the "ing" a long downbeat. "As in, dar-liiiing, you're being a jerk."

I've heard the same warning message wrapped into "honey" and "sweetheart," as well. It's all in how you clench your teeth and squint your eyes.

One of my daughters calls her loved one "babe" or "baby." No "honey" or "hon," she insists. Sounds Stepford Wife-ish, she says. That surprised me, because I often call my kids "honey," but in a concerned motherly kind of way as in, "Oh honey, those heels are gonna wreck your feet."

Unless you're William Powell playing with Myrna Loy, I think that the most treacherous term for a husband to attach to a wife is "Mommy." I don't mean as a form of reference, as in, "Don't drink Mommy's martini." But as the man walking in the door and saying, "Hi, Mommy, what's for dinner." It's troubling. It makes me worry they have separate beds.

Of course, pet names can be confusing to young children just starting to figure out who's who. A friend's 2-year-old picked up on his father's special endearment and one morning said to his mother, "Hey, babe, can I have some orange juice?"

I know a macho Tennessean who calls his sons "baby," and they are 11 and 15. He says it's a Southern thing. His own father calls him and his brother "darling."

A person I am fond of calls just about everyone "sweetie." His wife, his daughters, his granddaughter, his girl dog. He said it works to have a one-endearment-fits-all, especially in a female-dominated family.

My friend Robin calls everyone "cutie."

The word-detective.com site reports that darling is the most popular and one of the oldest endearments in the English language, deriving from the old English word "deor" which means beloved or dear. Before the service industry appropriated the word, no doubt.

The Harlequin Romance novel Web site said among the most popular romantic names are angel, sweetheart, darling, honey and sunshine. Nothing new there.

I know a woman who always wanted to be called "principessa," but she married a Californian instead of an Italian.

Here's another loving term. It's not so much an endearment as a friendly alternative to "significant other" in referring to someone in a committed but unmarried relationship. My neighbor calls her son's longtime partner her "daughter-in-love." She, in turn, becomes the "mother-in-love."

That has possibilities. As the mother says, "It's perfect since it's the love, not the law, that holds them together."

And isn't that the case with us all, honey-pie?

You can reach Susan Swartz at susan.swartz@pressdemocrat.com.