love: requited

Every year my heart gets a little green with envy when I hear how a friend's husband celebrates her birthday.  It is a whole week of birthday celebration with a pile of little wrapped gifts for her to open, special time with friends, and usually a delicious something-or-other prepared in her honor.

Every year I am excited for her.

And a little green.

Every year I wish that my husband whom I love, {a lot} didn't have such anxiety about gift giving. 

I wish he had more confidence about it. 

I wish he enjoyed celebrations.

{he honestly doesn't care if someone celebrates his birthday or his anniversary or holidays and does not care about receiving gifts}

I wish his way of expressing love went beyond:

 doing laundry, caring for children, cleaning toilets, grocery shopping, or making dinner.  

{acts I for which I hold genuine appreciation. but they are, for me, part of being partners & don't extend past the ordinary tasks of life}

I wish he didn't default into long-ass deliberations about purchasing things.  

{because I like receiving things...with spontaneity, accompanied by a birthday or not}

This difference between us has been the source of many hours of discussion {maybe tears were involved}

And played a supporting role in our almost-divorce many Christmases ago.

But this year, for my birthday, he made a plan.

He was secretive and thoughtful and anxious.

His plan did not work out exactly as he had conceived

{but} 

It included a week's worth of out-of-the-ordinary considerations, gifts, and deliciousness.

{and}

I felt loved and celebrated.

old-fashioned goodness

killer barbeque veal ribs and chicken

 

 

grill-steamed greens & sweet potatoes {w/ cumin, crushed pepper & lime}