My husband gave me roses last night.

Red, red rose

It wasn’t our anniversary. It wasn’t my birthday. He wasn’t apologizing for anything. It wasn’t an early Valentine’s Day gift.

He gave them to me, because we make a good team.

080: Love

I rode with him, via cell phone, until after 8 am, keeping him company. The hours on the road had gotten long, and the white lines became a bit monotonous. So I read him Facebook posts and news articles.

“You’re almost home,” I’d say, joking I was being his cheerleader. He couldn’t see me actually pumping my arms as I chanted to him.

I looked for truck stops for him to stop and get some coffee. Encouraged him to take breaks. Stretch his legs. Sometimes we sat in silence, just listening to each other breathe.

I wouldn’t have hung up that phone for anything. I was his co-pilot. I AM his co-pilot. We are a team. 100%.

Roses weren’t even on my mind as I drove to pick him up last night. Dinner out was, sure, but roses weren’t even on my radar. When he stepped off the bus with them in his hands, I was floored. Touched. I couldn’t stop smiling. I still can’t stop smiling when I look at them.

Red, red rose

Sometimes I think women like to get roses more to show off to other women. I have to admit I had to take a photo of my roses right away to share on Instagram and Facebook. (Well!) But I’ll be completely honest here… these were so unexpected in any way that they just meant more than normal. I don’t know how to explain it. This wasn’t about showing off. This wasn’t some pre-determined date to give or get roses. This was… thank you and just because all wrapped up in one. And that… that’s just extra special.

One thought on “Roses”

  1. You’ve got a keeper! I wish Chris would do that sometimes. He never surprises me with anything, really. I can’t complain, though – I’ve got a keeper. :)

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