Six Word Fridays ~ Love

Love is a funny, funny word.

If you visit here a lot

you know that I love these

tiny little flowers... smaller than my

pinkie finger nail, they remind me

of my first love ~ the sunflower.

You also know that I love

my family...that I'm blessed with

a husband of thirty years who

becomes an even dearer friend with

each passing year. I love him.

And the two kids...I'm full

of all sorts of love for

them too ~ no surprise there, right?

But on this Friday, I'll tell

you ~ in lines of six words ~

how much I've loved this challenge.

For the 216th time I'll share

my heart, six words at a

time...and say a bitter sweet

farewell to this weekly link up.

Thanks to Melissa who got it

started, passed the torch to me

and sparked this bit of creativity!

Thanks so so so so much

to all who have joined in!

I'm guessing this won't be the

last you see of my six

word creations...I love telling tales

this way. Who knows?! I might

even go crazy, and write a

six word post on a Tuesday!!

Join in - one more time - share

your story, six words per line!

right where we are...

My valentine roses came a few days early this year. Because he felt like it, I guess. And he chose my favorite shade of my favorite color. Because he knows. And he knows I'd have not minded no roses at all....but they sure are pretty. Right now I'd describe them as petals upon petals of warm sunshine for our snowy days. I've got the bouquet in the living room and two blooms at my kitchen window. As I look at them, poised in front of the snowy scenery, I see the promise of spring. And the promise of us.

A promise made and a promise kept.

A promise of warmth when it is bitter cold.
A promise of gentleness, grace and kindness when the elements seem harsh and punishing.
A promise of romance when all we notice is the routine.
A promise of layers when all seems to have been uncovered.
A promise of love. Right here. Right now.

A promise made when my heart fell hard at 23...some thirty-plus years ago. Made on that first Valentine's day when I told him I'd go steady. Made again on our second Valentine's day when he asked me to be his for life. And I'm thinking...it's not about how we found love all those years ago. Nope. The magic lies in the promise. The promise made and kept.

That promise to keep on finding love right where we are.

{Inspired by one of my husband's favorite singers - Ed Sheeran - and his song "Thinking out Loud"}

Joining Kathy and friends for

Song-ography

Six Word Fridays ~ Love

it must be that we are

given life so that we can

learn how to love. don't you

think? we get to fall in

and fall out...we burn passionately,

protect fiercely and hold on faithfully.

we're tried, tested, teased and told

to doubt the possibilities. and yet,

we don't give up on love. 

my crew has never given up

on me. i am better equipped

to love because i have been

loved so well. i've known family ~

and been loved unconditionally and completely.

funny thing about love. it multiplies.

and it's layered. mysteriously and wonderously

layered. we need never tire of 

learning all about it, sharing it,

living it and letting it filter in.

tell me, which one of love's

many secrets will you uncover today?

Well Loved

Breakfast was in the oven. I turned on the burner and put bacon in the frying pan. We were snowed in,  the sky was blue - that clear blue we only seen after a storm has blown through. I poured syrup into a small pitcher and walked back to the stove.

I growled a bit - quietly of course - when I noticed that the burner under the bacon was not heating up. Again. Crazy old stove. I picked up the pan to jiggle the burner, then felt the heat. I'd turned on the wrong burner. Sitting on the red hot, back right burner was the end of a four quart, heavy glass pyrex casserole dish. I touched it to slide it forward. OUCH. Burnt the end of my finger. I turned off the wrong burner, turned on the right one and turned away from the stove.

Sitting here five days later I still have no idea why I turned away from the stove. Why was I walking away from the bacon I needed to cook? I heard a small crackle, but didn't turn back around.

The next thing I knew there was a very loud crack of an explosion and glass was flying everywhere. I screamed and took the next few steps into the dining room. Before I could even turn around there was a husband by my side and a son bounding through the other kitchen door.

Without missing a beat, they handled it. One held me. The other got the broom. They cleaned. I left the room...I noticed some blood on my thumb and realized a teeny tiny shard of glass had nicked my clavicle. They cleaned glass off the stove, the floor, the sink...the counter. It had flown in, under and onto just about everything. There was even a hot piece of glass that singed the dining room rug.

Somehow,
while in the same room,
right in the middle of all that flying glass -
I had only been ever so slightly nicked.

If I had lingered even two more seconds in front of the stove that glass would have exploded right at my face.

If.

It's so odd to play and replay the events of those few short seconds in my mind and not be able to come up with any reason why I turned and walked away from the stove. All that's left is to be so very grateful that I did.

And grateful for the men in my life ~ for my guy. Who became the husband and who raised the son. Grateful for the son who's grown into a man so much like his father. They swooped in. As any damsel in distress would have hoped her heroes would. To comfort and reassure. To fix it all up, clean it up and take really good care of her.

So I don't need any roses or fancy chocolates for Valentines Day.
There has been swooping...
...and I know that I'm loved.

Linking up Here today

Digging Deep

I think we all have moments when we feel like the earth is

falling out from under us.

Sometimes its just the slow stripping away of our sanity -

one temper tantrum,

bank over draft or

lost set of car keys at a time.

From time to time there's a life altering storm, 

and the ground really does wash away.

I stood and looked at these roots.

And noticed that even in the middle of the winter,

the roots are reaching for soil.

The rain nourishes.

The sun sends its goodness.

The tree will fight for itself.

And the elements of the earth around it will fight for it too.

I'd like to think I'm like this when times get a bit tough.

Fighting for myself.

And secure in the knowledge that there are many

loving me and fighting for me too.
Easier said than done, right?

Dinner for Two

Cozy dinner for two last night.

Nothing fancy.

Just us.

And just us is just right.

Through Trials and Eras

Learning to share a life and
grow a love comes in bits
and pieces. In bits of conversation
and conflict. In pieces discovered
or discarded. We combine odds and
ends of wit, wisdom and wonder
as {by trial and error} we
shape a marriage and build a
family. Experts speak. We try. Yet,
err we do, of course. Then
a bit of conversation, a piece
of the other discovered, and off
we go to try some more.
Through trials and eras we learn.
And our love continues to grow.

a love letter

Dear Brian,
I love you.
It seems like I've always loved you ~ that you've always filled the biggest part of my heart. Next year we'll be able to celebrate the 30th anniversary of our first date ~ I'd say, "let's recreate it," but wouldn't want to make you sit through that movie again. Maybe a dinner and a different movie in Harvard square would be fun. I'd be with you, so I'm sure it would be.

We were an unlikely pair ~ the confident Harvard guy from Oregon and the insecure {barely a student} gal from Phili. You had the attention of plenty of girls, but you chose me! And then you made me believe that you really meant it. Valentine's day {1983} you quoted shakespeare to me and Valentine's day {1984} you gave me a diamond. I say we try to recreate those evenings in a few years...it'd be dorky, but I'd be with you, so it would be wonderful/dorky.

When we got married we promised to follow our dreams ~ and those dreams have taken us to far away lands and helped us to build a wonderful family. Our dreams have changed. We've changed. Through it all you have shown yourself to be a man of integrity, patience, hard work, determination, intelligence and character. You make me laugh ~ not always easy, right!? And you make the kids laugh...often and over any little silly thing. If they work hard and know the value of a dollar, it's thanks to you. They are clear thinking, and they know themselves ~ also, thanks to you! You are a calm, gentle, wise and steadfast man. And I love you.

Perhaps the greatest gift you've given me is time. Time to grow up. Time to loosen up. Time to let go. When I've been at my most exposed and weak and vulnerable, you have cared for me and moved for me and made sure that everything was gonna be ok. You've accepted me, which is, slowly, over time, teaching me to accept myself. What a great gift. Thank-you.

As our children get ready to leave the nest, it's not an empty feeling I feel. Not at all. Cause you're here. And no matter where life takes them or what the future holds, I believe in us. I believe in you.

I cherish you, now and for always.
me