Time for new traditions, as with all the holidays we’ve celebrated here, I suppose, but instead of forcing to create a new one, we’re hoping to happen upon it eventually. For now, we’ve planned a teeny tiny road trip to a quaint and historic little town not too far from here - Fredericksburg, TX - in “the beautiful Texas Hill Country” (says the travel literature) to experience a small slice of German culture. Because, come on, don’t schnitzel and spaetzle scream romance to you?
Romance. Hah! Technically, we’ve only been married for a whopping three-ish months, which still puts us at the honeymoon (think chocolate covered strawberries in bed) stage. In reality, however, we’ve been together for nearly 10 years, which kind of puts a different spin on romance. There are strawberries in the fridge, and there’s chocolate in the pantry, and never shall the twain meet and be consumed in my bed. Are you kidding me? Can you imagine the mess?
Don’t get me wrong—romance isn’t dead. Not exactly anyway. But gone are the big showy bouquets of flowers, gasp-making blush-inducing gifts, and elaborate Hallmark cards that celebrate romance, although, come to think of it, I don’t remember those either. Now, Valentine’s Day means a celebration of love for the whole family. We make heart-shaped crafts with the rest of America, we make cards for loved ones, we have chocolate (that are mostly leftovers from Christmas), and we make (unromantic) plans to commemorate the occasion together.
But romance isn’t dead, no. The grand statements of love have just morphed into everyday kindness, which doesn’t necessarily shout love over the rooftops of the world, but it gently reminds me that I am loved. Sweetly. Unequivocally.
Like when I went out for a run one Sunday morning and agreed to meet my family at the store for some errands soon after. My Guy brought the girls, and despite having to get them ready himself, which can be quite the monumental task, he still remembered to bring me coffee that he warmed just before leaving the house because he knew hot coffee would feel pretty great for me after a chilly run.
That same morning, because we took separate cars to get to the store, we drove home and arrived at a different time, with me dragging behind with the girls. When I stepped into the kitchen, My Guy had already reheated the breakfast tacos, which he had made that morning, for me so I could refuel.
See? Love. So unexpected. So real.
I’m not writing this to justify the lack of overt romantic declarations, but rather to let him (you, if you’re reading this, my love) know that I notice them. That I always notice every single gesture, and I am always, always deeply grateful for them. For you.
Because, really, who needs a dozen roses when I have hot breakfast tacos waiting for me at home?
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Happy Valentine’s Day, everyone! May you have love in abundance, in whatever form it takes shape for you, that day.