"When your spouse does something right, tell the world. When they do something wrong, tell them in private."
This morning Terry brought me breakfast in bed for MLK day. It was very cute because I thought he had already gone out the door to do his morning run. He's been practicing getting the eggs perfect (one set of eggs landed in the garbage)! All I could think of when he left was what could I do for him? You love whom you serve. Love begats love, and "besides" he says, "I want you to have something nice to blog about".
I'm just tellin' ya.
For those who know: Obama who? You will always, first and foremost, be more important to me.
Audrey, Lily and Turner were being watched by Terry and me. Their mom Jenni, was doing one of her favorite things to do every year: Filming a Short for The Annual LDS 24-hour Film Festival. Jenni was off with her "film crew" (the rest of the Turner family) writing, producing and acting out their movie. While they did their 24-hour thing, we settled in for our 24 hours with the grandchildren.
All three of the kids were being mesmerized by the Disney Channel. And yes, sometimes that is a very good thing. Tonight, however, I announced, as I sat dinner on the table, that the TV was being turned off, and we were all going to "visit". (I had informed my OWN children many years ago that we were going to visit, only to have Jared remark bewilderingly,"what kind of a word is VISIT?") My grandchildren are so much smarter than their parents, for when I asked if they knew what the word meant, Lily immediately raised her hand and gave a brilliant definition, and it was obvious that she and Audrey were very eager to visit.
The rules were that Papa and I could ask them each a question, and then they could ask us one. We went back and forth asking and answering questions. Although we had a slow start with a bunch of really silly questions, we soon got to some really good ones:
"Papa, how many girlfriends have you had?" "Five, but your Nana was my favorite."
"What's your favorite color Nana?" "Pink, just like your favorite Lily."
"What do you want to be when you grow up?" "A dishwasher" says Audrey,
"A Rockstar" says Lily, "oh and a Chef."
"What kind of food do you want to cook?" Nana asks.
"Teriyaki Food"
"Hey Audrey," I say thinking (I've wanted to ask her a question for a couple of months now: she quit calling me Nana and now calls me Grandma. I would really like to know why).
" . . .why do you call me Grandma?"
She squints her eyes, tilts her head, and looks at me and exclaims, "because . . .you . . . .LOOK . . .like a Grandma??
Visit over.
Yesterday, I reminisced about my mom, and then I smiled about my grandson. Two years to the day, one said goodbye and the other said hello. Life can be like that you know, and how often have we heard the phrase that when a door closes, another opens up? Well it did for us--and it was in the form of a beautiful baby boy . . .
Jonathan and I took down the Christmas Tree today, and for the first time in a very long time, I turned our home into a walk-in Valentine. There are hearts everywhere. Pink, red and white lights flicker as the Valentine Bunny sits in her spot on the table. Tomorrow I will fill the clear jars with red lids full of candy hearts and valentine sweetness.
Valentine boxes and tins in all shapes and sizes greet visitors in the entryway. Some are old fashioned, Victorian or romantic, while others are simple, sweet and lovely. I love hearts and I love romance. Most people give up on romance way too soon. To two old birds like Terry and I, nothing is sweeter than when we take the time to romance one another . . . things like when he stays awake and downstairs at the kitchen table while I am in my office editing photos, because he doesn't want me to be alone. . .so he waits for me to finish so that we can walk hand in hand up the stairs to our bedroom.
Or the many nights when I am up editing photos into the wee morning hours, and even though he waits awake as long as he can, I find him sleeping. The sweet part? My side of the bed has been folded down, all smooth and beautiful like the finest hotels do, my pillow fluffed up, and my night table has the light on so that I don't have to find my way in the dark.
He loves MY dog. He rubs Tommy's belly, and let's him sleep at the foot of the bed making any turns difficult when you have a 25-lb dog sleeping on your feet, or snuggling between your legs. He is the one to let Tommy out in the very early morning hours only to bring me the morning paper to read in bed.
Saturdays (and other mornings too) he makes me breakfast--not cereal mind you--but the best fried eggs, toast to dip in (yes, he makes perfect runny yolks!).
This is romance. He is love. I sent this to him in an email the other day as I was feeling so much gratitude for this magnificent man:
i carry your heart with me (i carry it in my heart)
i am never without it (anywhere i go you go, my dear;
and whatever is done by only me is your doing, my darling)
i fear no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet)
i want no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you
here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;
which grows higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)
e.e. cummings
I want Nana and Papa's house to be magical for when my children and grandchildren come and visit. I want them to feel love. I want them to see beauty . . .and I want them to have romance!
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