I’m sipping my coffee and eagerly looking forward to a long weekend. I’m taking a couple days off to enjoy my Traveling Partner’s companionship and love without having anything else to do (like work) to take my attention away from the joy that is this good partnership. 14 years married. 15 years together. Hell, I didn’t live with any previous partner, nor even my parents for 15 years! LOL This is worth celebrating. No plans, just presence. (And maybe some sleeping in?)
I breathe, exhale, and relax, and feel the simmering excitement that is, for me, a characteristic of celebrating just about anything, however small. Spring feels like a time of “renewal”, too, so there’s that. I love that we got married in springtime. Each year, as the flowers bloom all around, it feels like we renew even our love for each other. I like that. I’m grateful for this partnership; it has brought me a long way on this path I’ve chosen, and my Traveling Partner is a man I can count on for wise counsel, deep enduring affection, and honesty. I smile to myself and think “I chose wisely”. I hope he feels the same.
A rather random thought crosses my mind and fills me with a sense of my partner’s love, “he may not care at all about the flowers, but he cares deeply about how much I love my garden”. Perspective on love. I sit with that awhile, feeling both grateful and fortunate. There’s nothing about this that is “deserved” – we both work, every day, at making our love deep and strong and enduring. We earn each other’s respect and affection over and over again. We give each other reason to be grateful to share the journey for as long as we can. Some days I earnestly wish we might have the chance, truly, to live forever – just to enjoy each other longer.
I smile to myself and look out the window onto a beautiful Spring morning. The deer stopped by my garden yesterday and ate my newly planted peppers right to the ground, sampled the beans (they weren’t to her liking, apparently) and moved on. I laughed, frustrated but still merry. There is childlike delight in seeing the deer pass through, and it’s hard to be mad that they also enjoy the taste of my garden. lol I’m glad I made space for a bit more garden on the other side of the house, in a spot the deer can’t really get to at all. My “blue jay friend” who follows me around the garden while I work each year (for the last couple years) has returned to keep me company, too. He takes a position nearby when I’m in the garden, and follows me as I work, from bed to bed, from branch to branch, curious about what I’m up to, and occasionally finding a tasty bug to enjoy as I weed and water. The robins visit the lawn daily, picking bugs from the soft ground after the Anxious Adventurer waters. I love this season for so many reasons. The roses have buds now, and it is a quiet race between “Baby Love” and “Rainbow Happy Trails” to flower first. Something ate the Dahlia tubers, but the primroses are thriving. My garden is a happy sanctuary filled with lessons on resilience, patience, will, effort, love, and making good choices, and it is also a living metaphor I spend considerable time reflecting upon. I feel enriched and fortunate to have even this small garden. I laugh when I think about how many roses I’ve managed to wedge into this small space, each (all but one) thriving. More than anything else, having this small suburban home and wee garden space has contributed to a profound feeling of security in my life, much in the way that my partnership with my Traveling Partner has made me feel secure in my heart. It’s a nice place to be – and I am so grateful.
The clock ticks. The day begins. There are things to do before the long weekend comes. Choices, verbs, and my results may vary. There is no time to waste – each moment is so fleeting – but it is important not to rush them; they only come once. Each moment unique like the butterlies in my garden, and the flowers. Still… it is time to begin again. I should get started. 😀
Evening Light 