Today I had a date of sorts with my husband. It wasn’t planned. He needed an ink cartridge and one was not to be found in the small burg in which we live, so a trip to the neighboring college town was in order. I decided to go with. So, it was an impromptu date. I’m calling it a date because: 1. It was just the two of us and 2. It involved our new favorite Italian Restaurant for lunch.
It wasn’t romantic – we didn’t hold hands or kiss or flirt or anything like that. We were just together. The fact that it was just the two of us was not all that remarkable since we don’t have kids and often it is just the two or us. The fact that we ate lunch out doesn’t really make it all that special either since we tend to eat out often. And, even the fact that we were together was not all that remarkable, because, these days we spend a lot of time together since neither of us leaves home on a regular basis to go to work. So, maybe it wasn’t really a date.
That doesn’t matter. What matters to me is that we are together. We still count. We go with the ebb and flow of life with each other and even if we’re not officially on a date we can still enjoy each other’s company. We have settled into a rhythm of life. We can know what the other is thinking without saying a word. Sometimes in the silence of just being together there is magic. Being together is like being wrapped in a blanket on a cold winter’s day. You feel safe, cozy, protected and blessed. Your eyes meet, you smile and you know your world is right. You know that love speaks in the everyday moments of life and even an ordinary trip for an ink cartridge is something special.
And every time he plays, I fall in love all over again.
Loving in Grace,
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