Valentine’s Day is one of those days that just annoy the hell out of me. I hate being manipulated and that’s what it feels like. There’s a lot of pressure to do the right thing. Mr. Scott and I reached an agreement years ago that a card is okay, but even that isn’t really necessary.
When I was much younger, I kept wondering where my white knight was. No one swept me off my feet, took me away to a castle, or showered me with jewels. No one put me on a pedestal or bowed to my beauty. (Sorry, I just spewed my coffee on my keyboard with that one.) The point is that life wasn’t like the fairy tale. Heck, it wasn’t even a movie of the week. Life was simply life, and love wasn’t romance—it was something you worked to hold on to. Love isn’t about the box of candy and bouquet of flowers.
Neither Mr. Scott nor I are real romantics. We aren’t part of the hearts and flowers crowd, although I openly admit that I love to receive flowers anytime. I prefer the small gesture rather than the grand one. “One wed wose” is much better than a dozen in my world, and three is the perfect number. Both of us are the type of people who think deeds matter more than words. Not that the words aren’t important, and we both like to hear them, but they aren’t as important as the deed. Being there is what matters most.
Love is eating a lousy meal and not complaining because you know the person who made it is just as unhappy with the result as you are.
Love is making the coffee in the morning so your spouse can have five more minutes of sleep.
Love is making someone an egg sandwich when they just need one moment of normal in their life.
Love is patting your overweight wife on the ass when she’s having a really bad day and telling her that she’s still got a cute butt.
Love is about honoring the quiet time that your spouse needs in the morning before they can function.
Love is not complaining about the thing grating on your nerves because you know your significant other can’t fix it.
Love is fighting with each other over something stupid, but teaming up in a split second to yell at the kids.
Love is tolerating someone else’s noise when all you want is quiet.
Love is setting aside your own horror at a situation to help your spouse deal with the nightmare of sickness.
Love is putting up with your spouse yelling at the television during a football game.
Love is letting the person you care most about in life be whoever they need to be even if you don’t always understand it.
Love is sometimes as simple and as difficult as walking away but not quitting.
Hearts and flowers are nice, cards and candy are never out of place, and sweet words will always help, but it’s all about showing up even when neither one of you is perfect. Mr. Scott has put up with a lot, but he’s still showing up. So am I.