Love Notes/My Reply

You may remember my recent discovery,
in which I was able to give new life to (/soak in the beauty of) my husband’s old love notes.
Well, it happened again. Except, this time, the love notes were from yours truly.
I know. Right? You didn’t think I had it in me. Ahhhh, way back in old ’06 when I was just a babe in the woods.
(Or, you know, had two free hands at once, on the reg.)
So here’s how it went down: Once again, I was cleaning out and packing up my basement.
And feeling all sentimental, for a couple of big reasons.
First, the move is imminent. Imminent as in come 2 hours from now, the couch that I am sitting on as I type this story will no longer be in my house, but en route to an old Middle School friend of mine in Ohio. But, again, a story for another day.
Second, I am supa sentimental about things love and marriage for one pretty spectacular reason. You ready? TWIN is getting married. My Twin. I know. I can’t even type right now without crying. Dear Go Go will be making an honest woman out of my girl. My sister. My better half. But this is most certainly another may-jor post for another day. Because, as I said, I have tears to dry, and because, as I said, I have a UHaul to load. But let me just give you this teaser: My Twin Sister is getting married to the most spectacular man + a week ago today she made me ugly cry (with joy!) with some wedding related news + we are planning the most epic pre-wedding-night-sleepover-EVER for late this summer….and, I must be saved from myself. You see? Once I get on the subject of Twin getting married, I can’t stop. And I have a story to tell. A different love story. So the Twin story is coming…but for that you must, as my Twin herself says, “Wait with breath that is bated.”
So back to today. I was cleaning out a bunch of boxes when I came across my guy’s old wallet. I saw it and immediately got a case of the sentimentals, as this was the first ever real gift I bought for him.
(In case you’re wondering what the first ever fake gift was, it would be this package, delivered to his doorstep on week 2 of dating: King Kong DVD, a paperback copy of In Our Time and a package of homemade brownies. I know. Now you can sleep tonight. Phew!)
I peaked inside (secretly hoping to find a hidden 20 stashed in that sucker!) and came across a little bundle of papers. Small, crumpled little papers.
My guy is sensitive. And sometimes, when he had been faced with a challenge– the first day of a new job or a seemingly insurmountable task–I liked to give him a little reminder that my love would be with him. And so I gave him little notes; affirmations; poems; I gave him my heart,
in the form of a heart shaped post-it.
And as I sit here and reflect upon that sentiment, I realize that I can do the same thing for myself now;
I am moving to a new house, and about that I am unbelievably excited. But also a bit nostalgic. This house is the place where we brought our daughter home from the hospital. This house has held our memories and kept our secrets. This house means something to me. But all of that, all of the memories, all of the love, can come with me as I move on.
They may not be able to fit into a wallet
or an album of hand-drawn declarations of love,
but I know they will continue to live in me. In us. In the new home we create.
So, while I wish I could write more,
it’s time to get off the couch. Because this couch has some new memories to make.
And so do we.
here we grow.

By Friday, November 30, 2012 0 No tags Permalink

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