“Love isn’t something you find. Love is something that finds you.”~Loretta Young, American actress
This morning, my husband woke me up, held my hand and whispered, “Happy 14-year Engagement Anniversary.”
Sometimes I forget how sentimental he is. We sit in the same room at home, both on our laptops or smartphones, and we might not talk or say anything meaningful for an hour. We text each other when we’re at work. Some days we eat dinner at different times. It’s easy to get lost in the day-to-day expectations of cooking, running the dishwasher, emptying trash and replacing the roll of toilet paper to appreciate us. Anyone who says marriage is always pure bliss hasn’t woken up from their dream yet. But together, he and I have formed an Us.
My husband is active on one online social media outlet, and he reads me some posts that others write: their job sucks; their wife complains about the toilet seat; the divorce is messy; the holidays are depressing because they’re alone; the kids are a pain in the…; the wife doesn’t listen; and so on. He doesn’t post anything negative as a general rule–you never whose boss is reading what post of what friend who knows someone who is complaining about something relating to that boss or friend–and he’s private enough to refer to me only as “my wife.” When he does make a comment regarding me, it’s either genuinely complimentary or it’s a joke with a smiley face emoji just in case. 🙂
Seriously, we have a strong relationship together. I know that, my friends know that, but I didn’t know his friends knew that until he read me what he wrote last week in response to one of those depressed-because-women-and-relationships-suck posts.
It made me melt.
I don’t often hear that from him, not in those exact words. I see it from him when he takes out the garbage or changes the roll of toilet paper. We play Yahtzee in coffeeshops. He brings home bagels for breakfast some Saturdays. He kisses me when I come home from work. I hug him every morning before he leaves for work. Living in New Jersey during 9/11 made me realize that there might not be a next time to appreciate someone, so I work hard to have no regrets when one of us walks out the door. I say “I love you” at the end of every phone call to everyone. I hope you do, too. There’s no opportunity to take back what’s unsaid.
He shows me his moments of deep, deep love and caring; I don’t always pay attention to them. That’s my fault. I was caught off-guard by his comment this morning, but I shouldn’t have. After all, he proposed to me 14 years ago today–the same date that his parents got married–and I said yes. I’m still saying yes today. So is he.