It’s the last day of February, and I’m feeling a little warm and fuzzy as we close out the month of love.
Maybe it’s because Trent embodied “SuperHubs” in the past 24 hours, chauffeuring me to my gal pal’s birthday party last night, waiting up with me while I made late night drunk food on a work night, then waking up early today to pack up our things and our pup, clean up the house, load the car, water the plants, and take out the garbage before we left for work, after which we’ll hit the road to Fresno for the weekend (and he’ll drive, OF COURSE).
Oh! And while bustling around the house this morning (like only a real man can) he pointed out to me that the orchid he’s been lovingly attending to since we moved into our house (it was a housewarming gift, after all) has just started re-blooming. WITH A VENGEANCE.
Can your husband get an orchid to rebloom? I didn’t think so…
But then again, your husband probably doesn’t idolize his grandmother, like mine does. That’s who we’re going to see in Fresno this weekend. She has ten green digits and she passed most of them along to Trent, and she turns 91 this weekend. She also hasn’t been feeling too hot of late, and I know Trent can’t wait to get to Fresno and see her.
Like me, my husband looks up to both his grandparents. He admires their work ethic, their values, their appreciation for a quieter lifestyle. Both of us came to realize a while ago that our grandparents represent a lot of what we’re reaching for in this life.
Not the least of which is to sit side by side some day after many, many years together, watching golf and listening to the birds chirping outside.
By the way – as of January 13th, Trent’s grandparents have been side by side for 75 years.
January 13, 1939 – he was 19 and she was 15. If ending the month of love with two people who’ve been married 75 years isn’t one hell of an exclamation mark, I don’t know what is.