Well…. I just read Slarti’s account (Sorry, he’s asleep and I still don’t know how to do a link yet without him to show me) and truly am blessed. I know what he’s talking about – the love thing. The first few times we met, I wasn’t too crazy about him, thought he had terrible sense in fashion (how was I to know that he was wearing donated clothing because his family had lost their house in a fire?), and thought he was waaaaay to weird for me.
Little did I know that thing called ‘love’ sneaks up on you. The more we were together, the more I became comfortable in his presence. Considering I had just come out of a terrible abusive marriage a few years earlier, this wonderful man stuck in there- proving me wrong about my views of all men. He stayed by my side, slowly showing me that being there was a sign of faithfulness, patience, and trust. (Which by the way was a VERY hard thing for me to do at that point.)
He was the complete opposite- I’m logical, he’s the head in the clouds. I’m boring, he’s adventurous. I’m old (according to the kids), he’s young..er. I was full of pessimism and he was full of hope. I remember the way he proposed. Not on one knee, not in a romantic restaurant, not high atop somewhere overlooking the city lights. Nope, he had someone call down for me at the nursing home where I was working and when I came off the elevator, there was one red rose, a black box and a note that said ‘be mine forever’. He was hiding, the clever little devil.
My mom was ok with it. His mom was ok with it. My dad was not as happy as he could have been. His dad gave us 6 months. (outlived that one, didn’t we?) The more we were together, the more we became as one. He’s definitely ridden some rollercoaster rides with me in life, and stayed in place. One of the more impressive things for me is the wonderful eulogy that he wrote about my mother at her funeral. That really put a special beat in my heart.
I know that some love is like he said, the romantic, can’t sleep, can’t eat, can’t do diddly squat without them type of love. Our love goes much deeper. The love that sustains the mundane, the inane, the insane and the ’ole plain. When he walks in a room, I might not show that my heart skips a beat, but I am filled with the deep sense of happiness knowing that he is with me. Whether sitting watching t.v., driving along on a trip, or laying in bed talking, that sense of love like my parents had for each other is inside of me.
Like he said, love is a verb. I need to make more of that verb every day, for I have a great husband. Plus, he can always make me laugh. That’s important in a marriage. Thanks honey.
