Language of Love

 

When I wake up in the morning I roll over to my left and look up.

That coffee mug is usually what I see.

Here's why.

35+ years ago it became a daily thing for Donald and I to bring one another morning coffee in bed.

Whichever of us happened to get up first would make coffee and bring two cups to bed.

It's how we started our day.  

Things have changed over the years.  Now that we're retired, I am often still reading when Donald falls asleep, so he's usually the first one up.  

Sometimes the first one up by several hours.

He'll fix me a cup of coffee and leave it on my nightstand.

Yes, sometimes it's stone cold by the time I wake up and he's gone on about his business, and that's okay.

It still makes me smile.

And I know I am loved.

He doesn't have to flex his muscles and make a fool of himself in a pitiful caveman show of protectiveness.

Please.

I am Woman.  Hear me Roar.  

If some jackass making a lame joke hurts my feelings, I'll handle it.

Hopefully, in a civilized manner.

Will Smith could learn a thing or two from my husband.