Today is our anniversary. Twenty first. Craig is three weeks out from having a knee replacement and I have a terrible bout of bronchitis going on.
This is real life. Nothing physically romantic. No red hot passion. There isn't a one upping last year happening. We're not 'getting away'.
It's OK. More than OK. We have survived hard times, endured the drudge times, enjoyed fun times, embraced the sad time, walked through painful times, trudged determinedly through growth times, been generous in the forgiving times, laughed at the comedies, cried at the tragedies.
He knows exactly how I like my coffee. I know how to give him a massage to untangle his seized muscles.
He likes me just like I am. I like him just like he is. We have a friendship that can withstand this plain season of simply caring for each other with simple acts of kindness. Caregiving doesn't sound very romantic. It isn't. Caregiving is about sacrificing and sacrificing is about love. And giving. The romance part? It'll come back, we'll have to fertilize it, dig around it, water it. Care for it. Be on purpose. Crave it.
My kisser needs reminded that...
The other part will come back, like green grass in the spring. Tom Waits says, "You Can Never Hold Back Spring".
This is also true.
Thanks Loverby, for my extraordinarily ordinary, uncommonly common life - full of tender hearted loving kindness.
Looking forward to some sizzle to add to the mix when we both are well. BAM. Nice is nice, spice is nicer.