I told him not to buy me anything for Valentine’s this year. Just to write me a love letter. He liked the idea but his schedule was uncooperative. That was a month ago.
This morning I stumble into the bathroom pre-contact lenses and peer at an envelope that seems to have found it’s way onto the shelf next to the sink.
My head is fuzzy from nearly five days of him being driven by the deadlines of work and me parenting solo. Thursday is our goal.
On Thursday we get his head and schedule back again. We’re living for Thursday.
But today is just Tuesday.
Micah and Zoe are still asleep and Jackson’s camped out already in front of either the Power Rangers or the Lynx. I have a bath in mind. A bath before anyone else wakes up. I reach over to run the water and wonder why a piece of junk mail has made it into the bathroom.
I squint at it.
Micah has an affection for writing on scraps of paper and leaving them breadcrumb like behind him. But this isn’t from Micah.
In the dark between shower and leaving for work he made me a gift.
I stand and hold this precious piece of junk mail for a long time. I trace my finger over the familiar loops and flourishes he makes of my name.
I feel beautiful.
Unshowered, dark smudges under my eyes and those extra baby pounds stubbornly still sitting on my thighs.
Half-blind without glasses and so, so beautiful.
Reposted from the archives. Because this dance never gets old.
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This is absolutely sweet!! What a nice guy you’ve got there!
I think that it’s moments like that where we feel cherished… which is my magic word!!
Awww how sweet! I am glad that your hubby made you feel beautiful. You are!
Lisa Jo … I love that you told your husband what you needed! We seem to think that they have some kind of crystal ball and should just KNOW every little thing about us. In fact, they often don’t have a clue, and we’re both left feeling frustrated, isolated, misunderstood.
http://creeksideministries.blogspot.com/2010/12/no-crystal-ball.html
No one has a crystal ball. No one!
Wonderfully, speechlessly gorgeous.
He is, as my husband would say, “A lucky man.” Doc, hugs me, with coffee in one hand, and whispers these words to me too “I’m a lucky man.”
He and I have both made mistakes in love, and know that, though difficult, and messy, we are very blessed.
I love this!
I have one of those scraps of paper from years ago, when we were first married. He left it on the key hook by my keys. It only said, “I love you, and I love you being my wife.” That’s all I ever want from him, is a love letter, and he rarely writes anything to me. So I cherish the four or five that I’ve gotten over the 14 years I’ve been together. Words are my love language, and I NEED them. And notes are nice, because –crystal ball or no — it is nice to have someone tell you how they feel about you without you dictating to them what they must write. :)
Heck, that makes ME feel beautiful, Lisa Jo! What a lovely post, how simple, real & encourageing to any one of us. Merci.
Oooohhhh….LOVE THIS! What a sweet, wonderful gesture. It doesn’t take much, does it? Just simple words from the heart of the one you love… Thanks for sharing!
what a perfect sentiment! although for that last several years my hubby and i have said dont get each other anything….I typically break down and get a card ONLY…even if its only 99cents….of course HE doesnt….I would LOVE it if he ever took the time to write something like that out…. absolutely LOVE IT. That is soooo totally awesome. a keeper
My boyfriend and I were talking last night about how we can do a better job of showing each other love using our love languages, which, for both of us, are “words of affirmation.” This is a perfect example! I love this idea.
So sweet!
I’m writing this not to glorify that I’ve done the same thing early in the morning before leaving for work, while my wife was able to sleep. I am writing this because I remember what it meant to me when she took the small affection-laden note that I had left, and propped it up on her side of the dresser…where it has been for over a month.
It has been a great reminder to me that the little things really do count.