Friday, January 6, 2012


Andrew brought me white roses on New Year's Eve. That's the anniversary of our engagement; on the night he proposed he brought white roses, and he's done so in each of the 19 years since then.

It's sweet of him. Unfortunately, I am terribly unromantic. The path to my heart isn't lined with flowers or jewelry or mushy cards. And I'm allergic to decaying plant matter. So each year I nod my thanks, put the roses in a vase, and half-wonder if there's something a wee bit wrong with me for not "feeling the love".

As the days pass and the roses open, I move the vase from this part of the table to that, making room for schoolwork and supper and everyday life. When I sit in the living room writing, my eye falls on the flowers when I glance up. Over the days my mind slowly begins to apprehend that this curious gift my husband brings me once a year -- a gift I know many women yearn for, but I do not -- is somehow symbolic of something. It is as if Andrew is saying I know roses aren't your love language, but they are part of mine, and I love you enough that I am going to 'say' it whether you can hear me or not.

I think about that. After nearly two decades of marriage there's still a lot of mystery about what it means to love and be loved. Knowing that is worth something. Perhaps it's even worth the cost of a half-dozen white roses.

6 comments:

  1. Great post! I felt the same this weekend when my husband changed all of the thermostats in the house. Doing things like that is his love language, but I really really don't care what kind of thermostats we have. But now they're everywhere to remind me that he cares.

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  2. Came by way of Maggie May at Flux Capacitor. Your words resonate with me and are a comfort. Thank you

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  3. trimming the ends and adding sugar to the water can make them last longer... I like living plants though, was delighted to get a bag of bulbs from Wookie once to the amuseument of his workmates who were all buying bouquets :)

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  4. Put a penny in the water and there won't be any smell from the decaying plant matter.

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  5. Put a penny in the water and there won't be any smell from the decaying plant matter.

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  6. This is more charming than I can say.

    Once upon a time, my husband gave me a pair of scissors for Christmas. A nice pair of sewing shears, but still, scissors. Every single time I pick them up - yes, I still have them - I think of him, and Christmas.

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