May 17, 2011

Volumes of Love

My husband is an amazing man.  Oh, sure…I’ve said it before.  Many times.  But there are times it bears repeating.  Times when he reminds me all over again why he’s always going to be the one.  And times when the most selfless gestures speak vast volumes of love to me in unexpected ways.

See these flowers?  Aren’t they simple, but elegant and beautiful?


AB didn’t buy me these flowers.  Oh, no.  I bought them for myself.  Just because, you know?  I guess they make me smile and they make me feel cheery when I look at them. 

And a few years ago, this might have been how Anton would have served me.  Might have been one of the more prominent ways that he would have shown love to me.  He would have brought me a lovely bouquet of flowers and I would have gushed over them, and put them in water, much like what you see here.  I would have been happy and felt spoiled.  I would have given him a kiss and told him how I love him and how happy he makes me.

And there are times he still does this.  No, this isn’t to say that I never get flowers. 

But flowers aren’t cuttin’ it these days.  They aren’t making the list.  They aren’t even rating, really.  I think he knows this somewhere on the husband radar. 

Tonight Anton walked in from a long day at work.  He appraised the situation.  He looked at me with my frazzled wild eyes, hair tousled in all the wrong ways, wretched stress seeping off my core and the background noise of our children whining and crying over who took what toy from whom…as it had been going for hours.  It was one of “those” days.  I was looking steadfastly for the proverbial towel.  I needed it.  I needed it so that I could, with all my might, throw it in.

Instead, I asked how his day was and we talked about very casual things for a few minutes.  He was a little under the weather, his day was long, he was ready for Summer. 

And then, unexpectedly, he offered this:

“Why don’t you take off for a few hours.  I’ve got this!  Go have dinner somewhere.  Go shop.  Go read at a bookstore.  Go to Starbucks.  Just get out of here and have some time for yourself.  I want to take care of you.”

I gaped open-mouthed.  “But you’re not feeling well?!  I should be staying here to take care of you!  I can’t leave you here with the dynamic duo when you’re not feeling well.  You’ll die!  They will out-smart and out-last you, baby.  They are WILEY.  I should stay.” – this was all true.  He was not feeling well and they are wiley.

No.  He wasn't having it.  He was fine, he said.  The kids would be fine, he reassured me.  You need time away from this, he reiterated.  I was ushered out and left to my own devices until whenever.

And so I meandered around some stores.  Bought some lovely earrings.  Sat in silence (utterly BLISSFUL silence) through a long and delicious dinner.  No one asked me anything, except if I wanted more or this or that.  No one needed.  No one grasped at my legs.  No one whined in my general direction.  No one sought me out.  No one followed me when I got up to use the restroom.  (that right there alone…)


Volumes. Of. Love.

OODLES of it.

I was happy and I felt spoiled.  When I got home, I kissed and hugged him and told him how much I loved him and how happy he makes me.  Then I took his temperature, gave him medicine, and put him to bed.

Seasons of life certainly bring about changes in the way we show love to one another.  Certainly bring about shifts in what speaks love to us.   And that’s part of growing up in each other as well.  Learning to read between the lines, learning to meet the other person where they are.  Learning to be selfless, as AB was tonight – though he was feeling so poorly. 

That’s love.

I’m so grateful for a husband who senses on his own accord how to meet my needs exactly. 

I’ll buy my own flowers.