“Love works in mysterious ways.”
I don’t agree.
To me, love works …….
… when the husband drags himself out of bed every Sunday after a long week, to make me French toast.
… when the toddler comes over and hugs my head.
… when the husband tells me random news snippets he thinks I’ll find interesting.
… when the toddler looks up from whatever he’s doing and gives me a big smile, just because.
…. when the husband watches Project Runway with me (and made me promise I won’t tell anyone, oops).
… when the toddler says “I you!” (I love you, in Monkey-speak)
… when the husband pats my belly and whispers to the Scrumplet.
… when the toddler gently pats my belly and repeats after me, “Baby!”
… when the husband and I hold hands at the supermarket.
… when the toddler puts his tiny hand in mine, just before he falls asleep.
…. hello and goodbye kisses.
…. afternoon phone calls just to talk.
…. evening walks.
…. conversations about our boys.
…. planning our future.
…. toddler kisses.
…. playing trains together.
…. sharing an ice cream.
… bedtime cuddles.
…. not that mysterious.
…. the simple things.
…. quiet gestures.
…. a commitment.
…. soul-bindingly deep.
…. comfortable and warm.
…. perfect and effortless with the right people.
Love works in the smallest ways, weaving itself into everyday life, intertwining one experience to the next, yet it takes your breath away like a punch to the gut, when it washes over every fibre of your being.
Love works when one makes room for the other in this world full of distractions and noise.
Yes, love is not that mysterious. Not to me.
What does love mean to you?