Romantically Impaired

As I’m writing this, yesterday was Valentines Day. If you missed it, you can scan back and find my ode to the Mr. Oddly, much as we love one another, we’re not all that romantical. In fact, we’re downright unromantical.
Of course with the holiday just gone by everyone is talking about plans and gifts and whatnot. People at work asked me what we were doing. Let me share the scoop with you now. We went to Weight Watchers. Afterward, the Mr. picked up take-out Mexican food from his favorite hole in the wall. We went home, he ate his take-out and I had left-over pot roast. And then........
We watched American Idol.
And then.........
I went to bed. And then......
I’m pretty sure he had a bowl of cereal or something because there was a dirty bowl in the sink this morning.
No cards, flowers or chocolate flowing through candle-lit rooms. No dinner in dress or neck tie. No diamonds or even pearls. He did say, “I’m glad you’re my Valentine.” and I said, “The verdict is still out on that.”
Don’t be concerned for us, it’s how we roll.
I’m not pro or con on the trappings of romance. I’m just suggesting that it’s a neutral issue. I know lots of people who cling to these moments in time to convince themselves that there is real love in their lives. And I l know people like us, who forget it’s Valentine’s Day altogether.
Let me give you my definition of romance. I have never put gas in my own vehicle. The Mr. knows how I like my coffee depending on where he’s getting it, and he always goes and gets me coffee when I ask. He also knows that in the evening it has to be decaf, in the morning it better not be.
Romance is me making sugar free/fat free pudding after dinner for him. It’s giving him the pens I get from drug reps at work. It’s when I buy him expensive shoes because I know he won’t spend the money on himself.
It’s letting the words, “I love you” flow constantly. It’s that we never brush by one another in our house without a touch.
It’s me telling him to get away from me when he crosses the invisible barrier in the bed by throwing his leg across me and suffocating me; and him not being offended.
It’s him telling me dinner was “ok” and me not dumping it down his pants.
Romance is that I know he drinks Lipton Diet Green Tea and Diet Pepsi and so I buy them every week even though I don’t drink either. It’s listening to the run-down of the Metro song list 25 times a week including weird sounds that are supposed to represent bass lines, drum rolls and guitar riffs. It’s a play by play of practice with inside jokes I don’t find funny that just slay him. It’s the same stories about the same people at work every day that he just needs to tell and so I listen.
Romance is this man who buys feminine products for me and even knows which ones I prefer. It’s calling me “good-lookin’”. It’s a husband who goes out to pick up the kids at midnight from wherever they are so I don’t have to; even though he’s working six days a week. It’s being asked about things at work that he can’t relate to, but listens to so I can talk it through.
For us, this life we’ve given to each other is about knowing what the other person needs and just trying to do it even if it seems ridiculous. The most romantic thing in my life, is the Mr. who doesn’t ask me to justify what I need, he just wants to be what I need.
So I guess, in the post-Valentines Day moments, I’m just asking you to take a moment and define what love is in your mind. And to maybe, give a break to that person you’re sharing life with. Love is a verb, as my friend Becky insists. It should take some form, some action. It should make life better for that person you’re directing it at.
The Mr. needs to have access to pudding and he needs to make stupid sounds and talk about songs. I don’t care about any of that. But love makes them my responsibility. I am the keeper of his heart, and so I will guard what resides there, from pudding to fear to sickness and health.
I don’t need a box of Godivas, I need to be known.
Do you know what you need?

Song of Solomon 8:7 (New International Version)
7 Many waters cannot quench love; rivers cannot wash it away. If one were to give all the wealth of his house for love, it would be utterly scorned.