Now this is Love
Anyone can say I love you. Some people even mean it when they say it. I challenge you to look at love through a different lens and analyze what you think you know about love.
Love is not an emotion or a feeling. Love is a choice to care about another person more than you do anyone else. Sometimes more than you do yourself. Love is expressed in actions, not just by words.
Society today tells us to lookout for ourselves. Look at all the self love affirmations on selfie filled social media. We disrupt the common way of thinking when we chose to serve each other instead of just living for ourselves. When you love someone, you show them. You do things for them that needs doing. You talk to them with respect, even when you are angry.
I never had a doubt that my husband loves me. Not because he says it, but because he shows it. It is in the hundreds of daily small things he does and in the big things too. It really hit home on Christmas Eve.
What did he do, you ask? Did he sweep me off my feet on a romantic holiday? No. Did he give me a rather large diamond and emerald ring? No.
Did he write a love poem, give me a hot oil massage, leave rose petals on the bed, draw me candle lit bubble bath? He did none of those things. He didn’t profess he undying love.
Actually, he didn’t say a word.
I was in the kitchen slinging pans, measuring sugar, and creating all the yummy treats our family likes to have on Christmas. I was halfway through the Haystacks and about to start making toffee when I looked at the next recipe for no bake cookies called Clouds. I don’t know what they are really called but that is what we call them. So the ingredients are very simple. Marshmallows, got it. Peanut butter, got it. Almond bark, got it. Crispy puffed rice cereal, one box, don’t got it. I had forgotten to pick up cereal. No big deal, we will skip those this year.
Our eleven year old daughter#4 heard me talking to myself about skipping the cookies and she burst into a nearly tearfilled whine with a huge pout on her face. “but you always make clouds. You said we can have them every christmas and I waited since last Christmas to have clouds.”
My husband sitting in the nearby family gameroom, hearing this, silently puts on his shoes, grabs his keys and kisses me as he walked through the kitchen and out the front door.
It’s 6:00 pm, Christmas eve. Working people just getting off work filling the roadways. Not to mention all the families headed over the river and through the woods.
About fifteen minutes later I get a text from him, “______ store is out headed to the other one.” You can fill in the blank.
In my cooking adventure, I moved onto the recipe after Clouds and kept working. Two batches of Christmas Crack and one pan of reindeer bars later, he comes in with two boxes of cereal, a gallon of milk, and a few other things. When he sat down the bags, I wrapped my arms around him and hugged him.
He did not go to the store because he likes Clouds, he does but that is not why he went. He went because the children wanted Clouds and I said there would be Clouds. Most importantly, he went to two stores, stood in horrendous lines, braved bumper tight traffic because loves me and the children.
Actions speak of love. Yes, I enjoy to hear an “I love you.” It is important too. Seeing him act without me even asking him to speaks louder than any sweet nothing he can say to me.
If you want any of the recipes, drop me a comment or send an email. firstname.lastname@example.org Thank you for your time. You can see more of my writing here.