*Which is so out of character, I seriously considered starting yet another blog, for my weak days.
Today is St Valentine’s Day. The Hub and I never celebrate it. He’s thoughtful of and caring towards me. He gives me love notes, flowers and little gifts all year round. You’ve heard me boast about it. He can also be a great big jerk sometimes, but that’s marriage for you.
The Hub doesn’t believe in St Valentine’s Day. He thinks that people shouldn’t need a special day to show their love; they should show it all the time.
That puts me in a bit of pickle: I’m not a romantic like the Hub and my way of showing my love is not spitting in his dinner when I’m mad at him. He doesn’t think that’s particularly in my favour.
So, I did what I always do when I’m confronted with an emotional conundrum: I wrote a poem. Enjoy, and don’t think too badly of me.
*
What’s Love?
For Paul, the love of my life
What’s love?
It’s your hand holding the sick bowl, wiping my face.
It’s crying for someone who gave you a lifetime of grief;
because I loved her and you love me. It’s letting me hate you in
hormonal periods. It’s sitting, sweating in your undies
because I’m cold and won the fight over the central heating.
It’s playing taxi. It’s calming me on kitchen days. It’s buying
takeaways when the wallet can’t take it but soothing failed.
It’s tolerating my beliefs, so crazy to you. It’s your gift of two
beloved boys, knowing they displaced you, and not caring.
It’s golf balls at Christmas and Shakespeare at fifty.
It’s doing what I ask when you really don’t want to.
It’s putting me first.
It’s time, not money.
Sometimes, it’s money.
It’s the everyday ordinary and the occasionally sublime.
It’s blaming the world for my setbacks, when you know it’s
really me. It’s sending me to South Africa, France, Widnes.
It’s love notes in my laptop, my diary, the fridge.
It’s accepting my fat. It’s rejoicing when I’m slim.
It’s rocking a colicky baby all night then working all day.
It’s no sleep. It’s sore feet.
It’s working too hard, too long, too far away.
It’s coming home again. It’s trust. It’s not eating burgers
because there’s steak at home. It’s knowing what matters.
It’s hard times, unhappy times, tragic times.
It’s staying together.
It’s you and me, two kids and thirty years.
It’s you.
That’s love.
*
*
That’s got to pay off at least a year’s supply of hearts written on milk bottles, hasn’t it?
Okay. Yes. Just beautiful, Tilly. ❤ K
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Lucky Hub.
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Lucky me 🙂
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At least a year’s supply I would say! Lovely poem. 🙂
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Pretty hard for me to make one of my typical smart ass comments when you oil me up like this. Happy “I don’t recognize it either” Valentines Day to you both.
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oh Tilly. Tears at that one. It’s so right, so lovely. So real. Thank you.
We don’t do Valentine’s day either, for just those reasons.
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I’m filling up! Love is what we do.
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Now that’s a Valentine’s poem! 🙂
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I’ve got a love poem, I’ve got a love poem! Not sure how Tilly will make me pay but whatever it is, it will be worth it. Love you sweets.
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xxxxx
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I really hear a true love story in these words. It’s the constancy that holds fast no matter what else pulls away. You are the center of gravity in your family I would imagine. Your love pulls him to you. How lovely that you have the wonderful ability to put those loving thoughts into words. Happy Valentine’s Day.
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That was perfect, it got me choked up perfect. Lucky you, lucky Hub, lucky boys and lucky dogs. 🙂 Happy Valentine’s Day to all.
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Yup. Sometimes it is money. Most times not. You found a keeper!
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beautiful. real. perfect for heart day.
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couldn’t have put that better if I’d written it myself…possibly I would have had to add a few lines about having 4 dogs and 3 cats when you did not want any, plus me forever trying to make it 5 dogs or even 6…patience is a virtue !…and LOVE rules!
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I think that made up for it just perfectly! That was very sweet. I was just thinking this same thing a little while ago. My husband is romantic and sweet all year round. As for me, all that lovey dovey stuff feels so foreign. Every couple years I do something that might equal romantic. It’s not because I don’t want to, but because I don’t know how to. In summary, I just really stink at it. We don’t celebrate Valentine’s either.
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You’ve put your finger on it – I don’t know how to!
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Really beautiful and beautifully real. Well done
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It was alright, I suppose.
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😀
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Love is…all of those things! Brilliant.
We don’t celebrate Valentines either…why keep the lovin’ for just one day?
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“It’s the everyday ordinary and the occasionally sublime.” Wow, Tilly, the poem isn’t soppy at all – it’s so strong. It made me sit up straight and appreciate my life better – I think it was all those wonderful little details of life you put in the poem. It didn’t make me cry (which is unusual these days!) It made me grin with happiness for you and your Hubs. xxx
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Love worth fighting for.
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Not each other, OK?!
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Not? 😦
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True love, the bread of life, and you both have it!
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You really have a way with words, Tilly. 🙂 Wonderfully written.
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Wait til you’re married Fifty years. Then you’ll really feel soppy if you can remember him and he can remember you. Dianne
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😀 😀 😀
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Indeed that is love. Worth many Hearts on the milk, and shared maltesers.
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Great poem Tilly. I got as far as thinking about writing a real poem for Valentines… but hey ho, it never happened. Great stuff.
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I can’t believe it happened to me…
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that was beautiful. and honest, too. and beautiful. 🙂
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You found the love of your life and that makes you a very lucky person. Congratulations!
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That was just marvelous to read. Beautiful. My hubby to be and I are pretty lovey-dovey all the time, except when I’m tired and grumpy, or when he’s tired and grumpy. So Valentin’e Day is not a huge deal to us. No flowers, a card, but no diamonds or silly stuff. Like your hub indicated, that’s not for a calendar to dictate. But I do enjoy cooking for him. I admit I am pretty good at it, and I love the praise I get for it. I am aware that without me he would need nothing but the microwave and the coffee maker, so though I worked on VDay, we chose today to feast. I can always use an excuse to feast, like maybe it’s a Tuesday. . . Again, gorgeous poem. If I were hub I’d be in tears. 🙂
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Thank you, David. From all of the comments, it’s obvious that my readers know the real meaning of love, and it’s not about some commercial holiday. What a lucky bunch we are!
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We know, and I’m glad we know enough to not listen to the adverts. I think I said the same stuff in my latest post before I read yours! Small world, great minds, all that.
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I haven’t read it yet. I’ll toddle on over later.
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♥
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Ooo! How did you do that?
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Haha, characters in the symbols keyboard on my Samsung tablet
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Jealous 😀
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♡
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Now that’s just rubbing salt into the wound!
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Haha, I’m sorry. That’s all I got unless you want stars. Look up alt codes. There might be something there.
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Too much like hard work! Jealousy is the preserve of the idle 🙂
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I bet Paul got all soppy over your poem!
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Just a little!
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You two know exactly what love is!!! 🙂 ❤
Beautiful poem!!!
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That funny 3 thing was supposed to make a heart… Why didn’t it work? Where are all the teenagers when you need them?
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Sulking.
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May you both celebrate many more wonderful February 14ths!
Take care of each other,
Emma 🙂
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Thank you!
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Oh gracious! This is just so beautiful! What a treasure this is for your hubby.
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