No Valentine's card for me today. No forced roses, out of season strawberries, extortionate champagne or unethical chocolates. No candlelit restaurant or diamond ring.
No big, show-offy gestures. Just a long list of tiny, meaningful ones. Just me and my love.
He made me breakfast in bed, because I was too weary to rise. He came back from a walk bearing a blooming bough of black thorn, bringing the promise of spring into our home. He massaged my aching muscles. He held me close when the tiredness overwhelmed and the anxiety threatened to carry me away.
We're simple hearted folk. We don't celebrate Valentine's day, we don't even know the precise date of out first meeting, our first date or all those other firsts that seemed so important to my younger self.
We don't keep these dates, but what I do know is this: it doesn't really matter to commemorate when the seed was first planted, but rather to keep nurturing and tending to this precious love every single day.
I guard our precious memories fiercely in my heart's mind. When I am afraid, worn out or downhearted, we take one out together, carefully unwrap it, admire and enjoy it from every angle with a whispered "Do you remember when...?"
I guard our precious memories fiercely in my heart's mind. When I am afraid, worn out or downhearted, we take one out together, carefully unwrap it, admire and enjoy it from every angle with a whispered "Do you remember when...?"
We didn't celebrate Valentine's day with pomp and circumstance. But was there for me when it mattered, on a very poorly day, just like he always is.
Needless to say, we didn't take any pyjama day pictures either. These photos are from a walk and picnic in early summer 2013, through gorgeous woodland and flowery prairies...
No comments:
Post a Comment