– Winston Churchill
Intense love does not measure, it just gives. – Mother Teresa
Last Friday, I came home from a week-long business trip to California. I walked into my home office to drop my bags, tired and road-weary, and immediately noticed the vase on my worktable holding two-week old roses.
Two weeks ago I had purchased this bouquet of roses, all gorgeous pinks and peaches and creams, just because I wanted flowers in my space. “Damn, those are some amazing roses”, I said to myself, surprised that store-bought flowers could look that fresh, that rich, that luscious – after two whole weeks, neglected and alone in their vase.
Later, I learned that Andrew had cut their stems and replaced the water while I was away, extending their life, so that their beauty would greet me on my return.
The roses are now history, but that simple, care-ful gesture has remained with me. Wow. I am so very blessed to be loved by this man.
We are so different, he and I. Me, an introverted driver, living in my own cloistered world of words and ideas. Critical, focused, and intense, I often have little use for other people. My solace – my art – is solitary; I’m most happy alone, creating behind my camera or through my writing.
But he – he – is a server. Warm, engaging, extroverted. Despises conflict. Avoids it whenever he can. Should really learn how to say ‘no’ to the myriad of people who ask him to do things for them. He takes tremendous pleasure, is fulfilled, through meeting others’ needs. Yes, he is talented – a wonderful cook and a wine connoisseur, a persuasive salesman. But his art, his singular gift, is the desire to deliver pleasure and comfort to others.
A carefully prepared gourmet meal, a hot cup of tea with Benedictine, an impromptu and unsolicited footrub. All delivered with no quid pro quo, no ask, no negotiation, no measuring. Just giving.
All for me, all for us – just because.
I can stop and smell the roses, because I am blessed to be married to the caretaker.