When I was asked to write a Valentine Dayâ€™s blog for OCC, my mind absolutely went blank. I mean blank, as in, nothing there. Empty. No memories of long-stemmed roses. No intimate dinners arranged by my darling husband. No diamonds that say, â€œI love you.â€ No box of chocolates or surprise trip toâ€¦well, anywhere.
I wracked my brain. There had to be something I could write aboutâ€”even one romantic Valentine evening or hastily picked up bouquet of flowers from a corner street vendor. I rummaged through a box of cards Iâ€™ve kept throughout the years (got distracted reading all those cute hand made cards from my kids) I was hoping something would jog my memory. Nada.
This was downright embarrassing.
I was feeling just a tad inadequate, knowing that all the other blogs would be heart warming, sigh evoking stories of romantic husbands who bring home champagne and sprinkle rose petals on the bed. (The only rose petals on my bed would have been the ones stuck in my hair when I came in from the garden) I thought, well, I am a writer. I could make up a story. Who would be the wiser?
Whatever I wrote, I knew it had to be true, and it had to be heartfelt. So I thought about my husband and everything he does do and has done, not what he hadnâ€™tâ€¦.
He always fills my car with gas for me (he knows I hate to) He stays up late to help me with website projects. (because I donâ€™t know how) He rubs my back. (my favorite) Heâ€™s very very patient when Iâ€™m having a hormonal day. (often) Heâ€™s building a storybook garden for me and did all the heavy work in the garden, even when heâ€™d rather be doing a hundred other things. He makes me coffee in the morning before he goes to work and leaves me notes wishing me a happy day. If we wake up in the middle of the night, heâ€™ll always tell me he loves me.
Jeez. I could go on and on.
So maybe he isnâ€™t that great at remembering birthdays and anniversaries and special occasions. I realize I donâ€™t care.
He remembers whatâ€™s most important in a relationship. The little things that in the end mean a lot more to me than a diamond necklace or roses or even a trip to Paris. I donâ€™t have to wait for Valentineâ€™s Day for him to show me he loves me. He does it every day, in a hundred ways.
Iâ€™m one hell of a lucky girl.
PS. And what do I do for him for Valentineâ€™s Day? A card,(sometimes) a heart shaped meat loaf or macaroni and cheese. (Two of his favorite meals) Arenâ€™t we a pair?