Friday, February 1, 2013

Part 2: Love Is Kind

The next year, Brett knew he had some making up to do – we were a good year and a half into our dating career together… so a hug and a slice of pepperoni was not going to cut it this time around.  To make everything easier, we had decided that we would make the gifts, right…because that always goes well. 

Which of course, lends itself nicely, to a Friends reference:
So anyway, at around 6:00 that evening, I show up at his door in my pj bottoms and a t-shirt, and knock slightly, on the door.  Knock, knock. No answer?  Knocking a little louder and still finding myself standing out in the cold, I opened the door slowly… as smoke came rolling around my ankles and down the front steps, sensing an escape rout.  

Adequately alarmed, I peaked inside to hear the sounds of pots and pans being thrown about, just as Brett walked around the corner, dressed dapperly in a pressed button down shirt, which was now splattered… with what I can only hope is marinara sauce… and I quickly see that this evening, is not going as planned. 
There was a fair amount of consoling and ramen noodles to be had, as together, we tidied up the kitchen, saying farewell to charred asparagus and dried up chicken.  And then… it was time for presents.
Now, I’m not ashamed to admit it… but one of my "Love Languages" (to borrow a popular phrase used in a marriage counseling book of the same title) is presents or gifts – giving and receiving presents makes me feel loved, valued and embraced.  There’s just something about the idea of someone taking the time and the energy and the resources to find that perfect “thing” that will make me laugh or smile or cry that really tugs at my heart… so when it was time for us to open the presents – homemade and heartfelt presents… I got pretty excited. 

For Brett, I had put together a scrapbook of our time together, including pictures from every outing we’d had together, all our friends, places that were important to us as a couple….I had worked for weeks on this scrapbook and was thrilled with the finished product.  And more importantly, he was thrilled.  He oood and awwwd the appropriate amount…flipped through each page…commented, exclaimed, and said "thank you."
And then he handed me my present. 
It’s one of those things, that a decade years later, I really wish I had kept, just so I could show it to you today…so you too, might be able to soak it all in.  But basically, as I sat there in the middle of a smoke filled apartment, I unfolded a marinara spattered piece of posterboard with a picture of Brett’s face in the middle – a picture he had taken at Walgreens earlier that day --  and “I love you” scrawled on the bottom in red Sharpie.

Aaaaaaaaaaand, with that...sweet old Cupid was officially banned from our calendars. 

Paul says "love is kind."  And I think that's true. Love laughs as billows of smoke signal a ruined dinner while it acknowledges the sentiment behind the charred chicken.  Love wipes down marinara spattered walls while the other is in the shower, just so you won't be reminded of a "failure."  Love says that years later, you'll still remember that poster board and jab the other in the ribs and playfully roll your eyes, but still recall it with a smile. 

Love is kind.  At least it has been for me.  

There's probably a part check back soon!

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