This morning at 6:00 a.m., I opened up the refrigerator to grab some yogurt. There, sitting on the bottom shelf, was a gallon of fat free milk. I almost melted with love right there on the spot. Why? Because my husband hates fat free milk. He says it doesn’t have any taste and we might as well be pouring water on our cereal. And yet he bought it for me anyway.
Yesterday he called me from Walgreen’s to ask if we needed anything besides 2% milk. I asked him to grab me a quart of fat free milk, too. Evidently he couldn’t find a small container, so he went ahead and got a gallon of the fat free, even though he and the girls don’t like it.
Love can be expressed in grand gestures like sky writing and sunset hot air balloon rides (who DOES that, by the way?), or it can be shown in subtle ways like taking a moment to glance at your wife’s tires before she leaves for work to make sure that she’s not driving on her rims (again), or a casual brushing of your fingers across his back as you walk past. And in the rush of day-to-day living, sometimes we don’t take the time to notice these little acts of love, because that’s what they are. L-O-V-E, shown in its most elemental form.
Love can be about sacrifice, whether it’s throwing yourself in front of a train to save your kids, or choosing fat free milk because you know your wife is struggling with making healthy food choices. Little sacrifices, little acts of thoughtfulness...these things add up to an ongoing love affair with my husband that still makes me weak in the knees.
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