Flowers Are Not Required

FYI: I have the best husband in the world.

Double FYI: This is about to get sappy. Deal with it.

I've known my husband for almost 6 years now - married for 3 of those years in June. At first I really thought he was "too good to be true." I looked for flaws in him minute by minute, but they just never came. How is it that he continues to amaze me on a daily basis at his kindness, compassion, strong worth ethic, sincerity, and over all goodness? Sometimes I think he is too good and needs to screw up a little. It would really make me feel better. I worry, on a daily basis, for his safety. That I will be stripped of this life I never imagined I would have with someone. Logic tells me to quit worrying and live in the present. Well, logic has never met me, The Gold Medal Olympic Worrier.

When I came home yesterday, flowers were on the kitchen table. Some girls require flowers on regular occasions, special days, etc. and get all emotional when flowers do not arrive. I experienced my first moment of "getting flowers" in Feb. 2002. And, yes, they were from My Babe. I've never been so shocked in my life because that kind of thing just did not happen to little ol' me. Over the years My Babe has brought me many flowers. I am amazed that he thinks of that because, really, my mind is never on flowers. In fact, maybe I should start thinking about flowers instead of the load of crap I do think about.

What My Babe does not realize is that flowers are not required. I already receive a vase full of flowers on a daily basis. Each time he calls during the day just to check on me, flowers are added to my vase. When he tries his absolute hardest to be home when I am home, more flowers come. When he asks me how my day was and really, really means it, I get flowers. When he tells me "thank you" each and every day, I get flowers. When he listens to my daily rants, rages and insignificant stories, holds me as I sob about the babies, holds my hand in public, visits me at school, attends field trips and class parties (now that is love), puts up with my mood swings, switches out the electric toothbrush head every single time, empties the dishwasher, does the laundry, makes me supper, makes me icecream and popcorn, and tells me that he loves me, I receive flowers. At the end of the day, I have an overflowing vase. And while I have great pain and ache in my heart, that is just a little part. The rest is full of love and happiness...and a whole lot of flowers.