Mama Magnolia (little old lady a few houses down who has been dubbed the neighborhood grandma) took us to Applebee's for dinner tonight. While we were sitting there, waiting for our food and keeping the kids in some form of organized chaos, Ms. Magnolia nudged me.
"I noticed somethin'," she said, in her old-lady-drawl.
"Oh yeah? What did you notice, Mama?" I replied, saving a crayon from rolling off the table. She paused long enough for me to turn to look at her.
"My boy [she calls DH her son] sure does love you. It's written all over his face. I was married for forty-eight years, I'd know."
~~*
You know, that observation of her's surprised me.
Hollywood has made a caricature of love. You are given a story where two people fall madly "in love", and they are passionate in their zeal for one another. Swelling music. Fireworks right on cue.
When I look at my quiet husband, who loves to make me laugh and takes good care of us, I fail to see the passionate zeal. But it's there. The day in and day out of life tends to wear a person down. The fact that he's still trying shows me that his passion still burns.
It just took a little old lady making the observation to really drive that home.
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